


Darth Padmé and the Clones of Kamino

by Stirl999



Series: Revenge of the (kinder, gentler) Sith [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clone Wars, Clones, Dark padme, F/M, Force-Sensitive Padmé Amidala, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Sith Padmé Amidala, Trade Federation, light degrees of crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-08-11 07:44:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 70,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16471568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stirl999/pseuds/Stirl999
Summary: As Supreme Chancellor Nute Gunray continues to tighten his grip over the waning Republic, our two beleaguered Sith heroes gather their allies and prepare for the final conflagration poised to engulf the galaxy and determine the fate of Sith, Jedi, and the Republic alike.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And so begins the fourth and last story in the series. This one takes place around six months after Part 3 (Cato Neimoidia), around the exact same timeframe as AOTC.

"Padmé. Oh Padmé..."

"Don't you  _oh Padmé_  me, asshole." Sith master, former Queen, and now beleaguered Senator Padmé Amidala rudely shrugged her husband's hand off of her shoulder, Force pushing the hapless young man and his ministrations back onto the other end of the couch. Anakin slumped there, his baleful eyes afraid to meet his wife's.

"What'd he do this time," Sola asked, shaking her head at her little sister's ever turbulent life whilst sewing a purple dress for her younger daughter Pooja.

"He knows what he did," Padmé snapped angrily, sparing her husband one contemptuous glare before taking a deep drink out of her glass of wine. Anakin, meanwhile, as nervous and meek as Sola had ever seen him, merely fidgeted nervously on his end of the couch.

"Why don't you tell Sola what you did," Padmé now pressed, an evil glint in her eyes. "Or more like, what you didn't do."

Anakin looked awkwardly away at both Naberrie sisters, his blue eyes settling on some abstract painting Padmé had picked up at one of the billion fundraiser galas they seemed to attend every kriffing day. "Do we really have to hash this out in front of your sister," he mumbled under his breath.

"Hmmm, trouble in paradise," Sola mused, never looking up from her sewing. "Ani, I take it you know by now to just give Padmé what she wants."

"That's the problem, isn't it  _Ani_?" Ignoring the fact that it was not yet noon, Padmé took another stiff sip of her wine. " _Someone_  had a few too many glasses of wine last night and couldn't get it up, could he,  _Ani_?"

"I said I was sorry," Anakin whined almost childishly. "Can we not talk about this like...ever?"

Sola tried to hold off her smile, watching her brother-in-law's face turn almost as red as his sith lightsaber. Thinking back, she decided that she had not seen Anakin Skywalker so embarrassed since she caught him sneaking into Padmé's closet to do Shiraya knows what many years ago. She decided to do what she could to amplify his mortification. "I wouldn't think I'd be the one to lecture you sis, but there are other ways."

"Yes, I clearly know that," Padmé said curtly, "but some times you just wanna get fucked."

"Please," Anakin said, sinking even further into the couch, eyes begging his wife, "can we just keep our sex life private?"

"Private?" Sola guffawed, almost dropping the dress in her lap. "Please don't tell me you don't know that Padmé's told me every little detail since day one?"

Anakin stared at his wife, the betrayal evident in his face. "Really? Even when we were...um..."

"Highly illegal," Sola added sharply, finally finishing the sentence Anakin did not want to.

"So what? We're close, I've always told Sola everything. I told her I was a Sith lord, for sith's sake."

"By the way, Anakin," Sola said, taking some pity on the boy, "speaking of the law, according to Naboo's constitution you're a free and independent man. You're not a sex slave, and you don't exist solely to pleasure my little sister."

"Um...if you check our full wedding vows, I'm pretty sure the exact verbiage...," Padmé mumbled uneasily in the background.

"Hey Sola," Anakin interrupted, unabashedly trying to change the subject now, "did Queen Jamillia get back on you on additional security for Ryoo and Pooja's school?"

"Yeah, it's not a problem," Sola said, the topic clearly inducing an immediate distress in the older woman. "Though I still can't believe the Supreme Chancellor would want to harm them. They're children!"

"It's me Gunray's after," Padmé said, "but I want to make sure just in case."

"How many assassination attempts has it been," Sola asked, looking around to make sure that their parents were not in earshot for this conversation, Ruwee and Jobal being ignorant of Padmé's sith abilities to protect herself and all. "No wonder you're cranky all the time."

"Two on our way out of Coruscant," Padmé said a bit too nonchalantly for Sola's liking. "I don't know, that brings it to around fifty or sixty since he's become Chancellor? Thankfully nothing's happened on Naboo yet...that would strike a little too close to home." That was no coincidence, of course. While she and Anakin could foil any half wit assassin Nute Gunray threw at them, she did not want any of them coming within ten parsecs of her family. Which was why the entire planet was now crawling with spies and agents she hired herself, watching from the shadows for any suspicious or unscrupulous activity.

"I mean, it  _is_  your fault," Sola added, more than a bit of annoyance in her voice. "You're the one who plotted to put that asshole in charge of the Republic. Shiraya knows why with all your Sith machinations, but I mean, you have no one to blame but yourself."

"It was a necessary evil," Anakin interrupted, reflexively defensive of his wife even in front of her sister. "It's a minor setback for a major comeback."

Padmé groaned and rolled her eyes, wondering what dumb holoshow her husband had gotten that phrase from. "I merely set the tableau," she added. "Each Senator voted of their own volition."

Sola shook her head. "I honestly don't want to know more. If and when the Jedi finally put you on trial, I'd like to plead some kind of ignorance. Just try not to get anyone on our family killed, please?"

"It will not happen," Padmé said with steely determination. They heard front doors open downstairs, and a bevvy of small footsteps echoed through the hallways below.

Sola rolled her eyes. "The two terrors are back. Joy."

Padmé reached out with the Force and sensed two other familiar presences, and looked softly at her sister. Now she was the one who was begging. "Mom and dad picked them up. Let's not bring up the assassination stuff, okay?"

Sola nodded. She knew of her sister's abilities, but their parents did not and still saw her as a frail, helpless daughter.

"Or our sex life," Anakin grumbled beside her.

"Or lack of one," Padmé muttered back.

"Hey," Anakin protested, "I made it up to you this morning! Twice!"

"I thought you preferred to keep this shit private," Sola muttered, not looking up from her project.

Thankfully, Sola's two young daughters burst into the room, ending their more mature conversation topcis. The older woman continued to knit her dress, knowing that Ryoo and Pooja's attention would be focused elsewhere.

"Aunt Padmé!"

"Uncle Ani!"

Both siths rose before the two kids could jump into their laps, corralling them as they pulled their nieces in for a fierce embrace, though Padmé still held her glass of wine with one hand. She was drinking more, Sola noticed. And while she knew that Padmé's ribbing of her husband this morning was mostly in jest, the stress of being targeted by a rather evil Supreme Chancellor with a grudge did seem to be wearing her sister down, if it said Chancellor's promotion was by her own hand.

They sat back down, Ryoo next to Anakin and Pooja between the couple. "How was school today," Anakin asked.

"We learned about galactic politics," Ryoo said excitedly. "Our teacher told us that Aunt Padmé is the galaxy's only hope against slimey Nute Gunray!"

"They really do editorialize," Sola wondered. "The next school board meeting should be interesting."

"Well, he is this planet's greatest sworn enemy," Ruwee Naberrie said as he and his wife Jobal stepped into the room. "And I know you don't want me to bring this up, but we saw the latest news on the assassination attempts."

" _Attempts_ ," Anakin emphasized. "None have succeeded."

"I have to say it," Jobal protested, the strain on her face evident, grays showing up for the first time in her dark hair, "but if they don't show any sigh of stopping, how long before one does? Padmé, have you given thought to maybe...retiring from the public eye for some time? Not permanently of course, but while that vile creature sits atop the Republic."

Padmé sighed. This conversation was predictable and necessary, but as she noticed a slight glare from her sister, she regretted worrying her parents like this. Fortunately it would not be for much longer now. "I cannot back down now," she said in a steely voice that her family recognized to be her Senatorial tone, "else Gunray and his cronies may never give up their throne. The Jedi do an admirable job with protection on Coruscant. And Gunray does not dare touch Naboo for now."

"For now," Ruwee mumbled, not satisfied by her answer. "I'm surprised they haven't made their move yet. I saw reports just today that the Trade Federation just occupied Sern Prime. That's the third world they've subjected to their atrocities since Gunray took over."

"I have sources that tell me they are building up their droid army," Padmé said. "They are picking out the easy targets now, but they know firsthand Naboo will resist, and Gunray knows that he cannot afford lose to us a second time. When they come, they will be prepared."

"Hardly a comforting thought," Jobal said, sitting down next to Sola. She smiled uneasily at her grandchildren, who fidgeted nervously on the couch next to Anakin and Padmé now that the conversation had suddenly turned so serious.

"They will not succeed," Padmé said with surprising confidence.

"How can you be so sure," Ruwee challenged. "I know you built up Naboo's defenses after the occupation...but Jamillia," Ruwee shook her head, "She has committed to maintaining them, but there is talk that she has not devoted the necessary resources. And before Gunray's election I would have agreed with her, we don't need to be pouring credits into an army...but now..."

"One vote," Jobal bemoaned. "One vote and my little Padmé could have been Chancellor and fixed this damned galaxy. Now your life is in constant danger, and our entire family...our planet...faces  _annihilation_!"

"Mum," Sola spoke out for the first time, "the kids." She nodded her head towards her two daughters, who had suddenly found great interest with fiddling with their aunt and uncle's robes.

Padmé caught another withering glare from Sola and again could not find it in her heart to blame her sister who, not sequestered on Coruscant for most of the time, had to live with the strain her sithly actions had on their family on a daily basis. There was always a cost to the Dark Side, this she knew clearly from her time with Sidious, but as she watched her loved ones pay the price of her actions for really the first time, she could only remind herself that this was all for the greater good.

"Look," she said reluctantly, lowering her voice, "I can't tell you the details, but trust me, we have something in the works. Good Senators like Bail and Mon and Garm will not take this lying down, especially seeing what's happening to Sern Prime now. I promise you, arrangements are underway, and the tide is already turning. No harm will come to Naboo or our family."

"I believe her," Sola agreed, trying to end the rapidly contentious conversation. She noted her parents' surprise. "Have you ever known Padmé to not be fully prepared for anything? If my sister says we'll all be fine, then I trust her."

Taking her older daughter's cue, Jobal tried to change the subject matter as well. "Padmé, will you and Anakin be staying for dinner tonight?"

The sith master shook her head, taking out her datapad to review her schedule. "Sorry ma, but we have a pretty full slate for today. Western Plains to visit Ani's parents, then the studios in Theed to record some holopodcasts, and finally meeting our winemaker for dinner and a tasting tonight."

Much had changed since Padmé had lost the election. As they had planned, Anakin convinced his mother and Cliegg's family to temporarily relocate to Naboo, where he assured them they would both be safer from the new Chancellor's wrath, setting them up on a remote shaak farm to resemble as much as possible their settlement outside of Anchorhead. It took some time, but they were settled in nicely now, and certainly made for more efficient visits as both the siths could visit their parents on the same trip back to Naboo.

Being the hated pariah of the Supreme Chancellor and the worst members of the Senate actually yielded numerous benefits, especially after Padmé took to the habit of appearing on the occasional holopodcast. And not the political ones either, as those would be too obvious...and boring, but bantering back and forth on some of the more comedic and irreverent shows allowed the galaxy to see a different, more human part of her, allowing her to slowly shed her image of a crusading do-gooder ice queen as she easily joked along the biting comments about even taboo subjects such as all her assassination attempts or her husband's age.

"Oh, can you bring back a few bottles from the vineyard," Sola asked eagerly, catching her sister's eyeroll, as it was the surplus supply of  _Amidala's Vintage_  that got Anakin into trouble the previous night in the first place. It wasn't that Darth Mirayya lacked for credits, having inherited Sidious and Lord Plagueis's combined accounts, but the idea of the beleaguered and persecuted Senator starting her own fledgling vineyard to raise funds appealed in the minds of many, further entrenching her as the archetype of the struggling, righteous underdog.

"If there's any left in stock, I'll lug back a few here before we go back to Coruscant," Padmé answered.

"Sounds like business is good," Ruwee commented.

"I'll be happy as long as we outsell Gunray," Padmé replied. Sure as hell, the new Chancellor couldn't resist trying to compete and one-up his hated rival in every single aspect, starting his own craft liquor company mere days after Padmé launched her wine brand.

"I'd hope so." Sola wrinkled her nose in disgust. " _Gunray's Best Fermented Bug Larvae Juice_...who the kriff would ever willingly drink that?"

"They advertise it as being infused with the finest rancor urine," Darred said, walking into the parlor at that very moment with a glass of his sister-in-law's wine in hand. "I mean, how does he even think that's a selling point?"

"And just...how would he even go about harvesting that on an industrial scale," Ruwee added, his academic mind thoroughly puzzled by the economics of the product.

Padmé rolled her eyes. "Such is the state of the Senate, his sycophants will go out of their way to buy up those overpriced bottles and try not to grimace whilst drinking them and toasting their Chancellor. But trust me, I have it on good information that my wines are doing much better."

"Some consolation," Jobal muttered before placing her hands, palms facing out at everyone. "I know, I know, that's the last you've heard from me about all this."

The two siths exchanged a knowing look at each other, prepared to face a similar interrogation later that day from Shmi, though she was clearly less outspoken than Padmé's parents.

 _Kriff the Jedi_ , Padmé sent through their bond to Anakin.  _Anyone who thinks the Dark Side is easier is a fool._

* * *

"Believe, you do, that Chancellor Gunray is a Sith master?"

"Or Senator Fafi," Dooku added.

"Or Mas Amedda," Kit Fisto added as well, referring to the newly appointed Vice Chair. "He has certainly risen under this new Chancellorship."

"Without scruples, yes. Corrupt, yes. Outright criminals...yes. But Siths and masters of the Dark Side...I don't believe so." Inwardly, Obi-Wan Kenobi rolled his eyes and hoped that the gathered Council could not sense his impatience. Because of his encounter with the Zabrak Sith a decade ago, Obi-Wan had been unofficially designated the expert on the long thought to be extinct order by the Jedi Council. And somehow after being wrapped up with Amidala's shenanigans all these years later, they had unofficially designated him to the their liaison to the Senate and that one particularly troublesome senator. And with the suspicion from the Council that the Sith Master was hiding in the middle of the Senate, Obi-Wan found himself assigned to investigate and report on every hare-brained theory any Council master could imagine as to the identity of the Sith. Not that he himself was innocent of far out theories, having briefly suspected Amidala herself to have been a sith before she lost her election to Nute Gunray.

"Sith or not, we must do something about the Chancellor's crimes," Dooku protested vehemently, and Obi-Wan could not blame his impatience, "or else we'll find that blasted droid army occupying the Temple grounds themselves."

"Since his election he has not given us any assignments or missions," Adi Gallia added indignantly. "Well, besides the constant requests to kill Senator Amidala, of course."

"Speaking of," Obi-Wan said, pulling up his comlink, "I will report to the Council the Chancellor's latest communication." Holding his breath in distaste for a second, he started speaking in the most neutral tone, " _'why is the Senator not dead yet? She should be dead now. I want her dead. I am the Chancellor. I am law. Law is me. Summon Senator Amidala to the Jedi Temple. I order you to cut off each one of her limbs with your pointy light swords. Make it slow and painful. Then bring what is left of her to me. I have acquired a very valuable and ancient sword from one of the moons of Mandalore. The blade is very rough and dull. I will cut off her head myselfs. Best regards, Chancellor Nute Gunray, esquire, Prince of beauty, great conqueror and destroyer of worlds, King of the Galaxy and all known worlds.'_ "

Ki-Adi-Mundi frowned. "I didn't know that the Chancellor had acquired a degree of law."

"He hasn't," Obi-Wan replied dully. "I do not believe the Chancellor places any value on words or titles besides what meaning he assigns them himself."  _Especially with that King of the Galaxy stuff_ , he thought, his impatience increasing.  _Do I really have to spell out everything for you? How do you even single out one word, 'esquire', out of that entirely ridiculous message?_

Even Mace Windu seemed to be at the end of his tether. He shook his head, muttering, "how many more years of this do we have to endure?"

"Why should we have to endure it," Dooku objected, and Obi-Wan saw even Master Yoda sigh in exasperation as the Council veered off onto the same debate it had recited countless times over the last six months.

"Why should we allow corruption to fester and oppression to spread? The Jedi act for good, for light, for the Force."

"You are suggesting the Jedi meddle into the politics at the heart of the very Republic," Ki-Adi-Mundi objected. "You would have us break the precarious balance the Order has maintained with the Republic since Ruusan."

"I hardly doubt the minds behind Ruusan ever envisioned someone as unabashedly base as Nute Gunray at the head of the Republic," Yarael Poof shot back.

The debate continued, and Obi-Wan's focus faded away from his immediate surroundings. Senator Amidala was due to return to Coruscant soon, and he hoped to milk whatever peace and serenity he could find in the meantime.


	2. Chapter 2

"...our people are dying, I have not had contact with anyone on planet for days..."

The man seemed on the verge of tears, and Padmé could not but help but feel sympathy for Fang Zar as he pleaded for the fate of his people and his planet on mostly deaf ears. The sith remembered how she had been in almost the exact position a decade ago, after being tricked by her master Darth Sidious about the Trade Federation and how their blockade would have been quick and painless. Padmé felt mixed emotions in this moment as well because, even as she made her case before an immovable Senate, she spoke then with the inner satisfaction of already having gained her revenge, having crushed to death her traitorous Senator moments prior. Though even then, at that young age of eighteen, Padmé understood that she would never be able to forgive her own complicity in that plot, however much Sidious had planned and executed the bulk of it. Now, she was indirectly inflicting the same atrocities unto more innocent words, her only consolation being how worse things would have been for the galaxy had Sidious lived, and how she would improve everything once her plans came to fruition.

The dark lady of the Sith could feel the patience of her Jedi bodyguards wearing thin. Since the ascension of Nute Gunray to the head of the Republic the Jedi had seen fit to assign her permanent bodyguards anytime she was on Coruscant, and obviously she could not, as a supposedly frail and helpless non Force Sensitive, turn down their offer. Not that she minded. Master Sifo-Dyas had practically volunteered for the assignment and even Obi-Wan Kenobi, though he would never admit it, seemed to not mind the babysitting despite the endless hours of political droning he had to now constantly endure.

Padmé sensed the presence of the assassins well before her Jedi protectors, and of that she was proud. She felt a brief wave through the Force from Anakin behind her in the Senate pod, and knew that he had felt the disturbance in the Force as well. Both of them showed no reaction until they heard Obi-Wan's shout.

"Threat, upper alcoves."

Less than a millisecond later, blasts came from exactly where Obi-Wan had pointed out, and the young Jedi Knight quickly moved the deflect the shots harmlessly onto the floor of the Senate Rotunda.

"That stray pod," Sifo-Dyas pointed out on the opposite side of the chambers, one that was quickly zooming towards them. "That's no politician occupying it."

Sure as sith, the Dug bounty hunter shot out several blasts towards the Naboo pod, which Sifo-Dyas worked quickly to deflect. Taking advantage of the break in the crosshairs, Anakin fired true twice, his first shot zooming into the chest of the Dug, then immediately pointing his blaster up to the ceiling, shooting again within two seconds of his first shot. Sure enough, a second twi'lek assassin plummeted down from the balcony, past hundreds of Senate pods, his body splattering onto the floor below. Quickly, a small cadre of Senate guards emerged onto the ground floor to wordlessly sweep and clean off the remains of the dead assassin, while another crew zipped out to tow away the rogue Dug's pod.

"Nice shooting, kid."

"Thanks, Master Jedi." It was easy pickings for Anakin to take out the two assassins, and though Obi-Wan clearly knew not of his Sith training, he figured the Jedi had long guessed that his talents were augmented by his supposedly raw abilities with the Force. Still, he couldn't help but beam in pride at the compliment from the man who had almost been his mentor and teacher. He knew he should not care about what one Jedi thought of him, but something ingrained in Anakin Skywalker's soul chafed at the idea of being thought of as a helpless civilian. Especially from Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Meanwhile, none in the Senate, not even Mon Mothma or Fang Zar reacted in the slightest to the assassination attempt because, if it seemed like an everyday occurrence, it practically was. Bail Organa actually yawned, his attention never straying from the business at hand while from his pod, the beleaguered Senator from Sern Prime continued his plea, his speech completely unaffected by yet another near death experience from his dear friend and colleague. The only one who showed any reaction to the assassination attempt was the Supreme Chancellor, who visibly cursed in some obscure Neimodian dialect once both assassins met their doom. His patience growing thin after yet another failed attempt, Nute Gunray finally decided to cut Fang Zar off.

"Enough slander," he screeched, looking angrily at his Vice Chair. "Who allowed this man to speak anyhows? He has no legitimacy. He does not represent Sern Prime. The current governing body of Sern Prime has nominated me to speak on their behalf.  _Sern Prime is in great shape. Sern Prime has never been better! Trade Federation and Sern Prime together forever!_  That is the message that has been relayed to me from Sern Prime. As you can see, Sern Prime is happy and at peace and loves Trade Federation, so there is no any reason for further speaking of Sern Prime."

Padmé sighed, knowing now was clearly the time to maximize her impact amidst this rote script. She pushed her pod forward, not bothering to wait for Mas Amedda to give her the floor knowing that he would not willingly anyway.

"My fellow Senators, I would tell you this is an outrage if you did not realize this already, if you are not tired by now of how often I have had to utter such extreme accusations before this body. But just because outrage has become part of our daily routine does not mean we should immunize ourselves from it. The people of Sern Prime are suffering, dying, and their voice is being silenced..."

"Enough," Nute Gunray yelled out from his Chancellor's podium. "Die Amidala die," he pretended to mutter under his breath, but speaking loudly enough for the entire chamber to hear. He raised his head and puffed up his chest, the Neimodian's approach to imitating the dignity of a high-minded politician. "I believe I speak for everyone when I say we are all tired of this bitch's screeching and nagging. Therefore, as the newly designated voice of Sern Prime by the legitimate rulers of the planet, I submit the motion to ban Amidala from ever talking again in this Senate room! Under presumption that this will obviously pass because I am great and everyone loves me and agrees with me and every hates bitch Amidala, I submit to preemptively enact this act and Amidala is not allowed to speak against it. I cannot beer to hear anymore of your disgusting voice..."

The  _Shut Up Amidala You Stupid Ugly Face Bad Haired Bitch Stupidhead Whore No One Likes You Everyone Love Gunray Act_  passed by a margin of twenty votes, and Obi-Wan shook his head as he and Sifo-Dyas escorted the Skywalkers up to the Supreme Chancellor's office.

"Does he realize," the younger Jedi Knight commented, "that such absurd abuses of power only helps your popularity amongst the masses?"

Padmé shook her head. "Unfortunately the voice of the masses are not represented in the Senate, and the Chancellor is clearly too short sighted to realize the long-term implications of his actions."

"There is no long term if his assassination attempts succeed," Sifo-Dyas warned forebodingly. "Are you sure you will be safe meeting with him without our presence?"

"What do you sense, Masters Jedi?"

Obi-Wan frowned, extending his senses into the Chancellor's office. "He is indeed alone, with only a few Senate guards around him. I do not sense any, well, excessive deceit or fear from anyone."

"Anakin will be able to protect me then," Padmé submitted. "As always, Masters Jedi, I thank you for your time and forbearance."

"Always a pleasure, Senator," Obi-Wan said, watching the couple disappear into the Chancellor's office. He turned to Sifo-Dyas. "If you have the situation in hand, I've been summoned for another briefing before the Council."

The older Jedi nodded without reply, and Obi-Wan Kenobi departed the Senate Chambers in silence.

* * *

"Senator Amidala, always a pleasure." The newly minted Supreme Chancellor of the Republic strode through his office imperiously, reaching up to a high cabinet for an ornate bottle. "Would you like a glass of  _Gunray's Best_?"

Padmé shook her head, using the Force to block out the stench as Nute Gunray poured himself a glass of the pungent milky liquid. "What purpose do you have for this meeting, Chancellor Gunray..."

"Everyone loves  _Gunray's Best_ so much," the Supreme Chancellor interrupted, taking a sip and savoring the flavor of his concoction. "I believe it is far outselling your putrid little wine."

"The numbers tell a different story..."

"Do you know," Nute Gunray interrupted again, sitting down on his chair and intentionally placing his bare feet atop his desk, pointing his rotting toenails at the young Senator and her husband, "that many are already calling me Gunray the Great? After only six short months!"

Once again, the sith couple thanked the Force they could use the Force to block out the most offending smells.

"I do believe that there are some Senators whom you have threatened, bribed, or otherwise cajoled into making grandiose statements towards yourself...," Padmé asserted back, only to find herself interrupted yet again as the Chancellor swung his feet back down and leaned forward, trying his best to threaten the couple.

He frowned, and then pretended to smile, asking casually, "do you know why I've kept you alive?"

"I have endured many dozens of your assassination attempts by now, all failures..."

"...because I want to watch you squirm, Amidala!" The Supreme Chancellor pounded his fist loudly onto his table, only to shriek in pain as he only hurt himself in the process. Regaining his composure after a few seconds, he continued. "I want you to live in fear, never knowing when death will come. Then it will come. Death, that is. And you and your little wimp husband will die slowly and painfully, and I will have your head on a mantle in this desk, which I will bring to the Senate Chambers every single day, and I will string your head along a golden chain and wear your head around my neck, and I will drink..."

Padmé shook her head, almost as if she were a schoolteacher disappointed in a wayward student. "You had no reason to call me here, did you, Chancellor Gunray? You just wanted to gloat, and to waste my time in the process. I am only disappointed in myself, that I allowed this to happen once more..." She rose, ready to leave.

"You are a career politician, Amidala," Gunray screamed back, no longer able to hide his hatred and rage for his mortal enemy. "You should know better than anyone that every second spending with the Great-Supreme-Chancellor-Emperor-King is the greatest priviledge uncomprehenbissle to puny minds such as yourselves!" Behind him, his two Senate guards braced themselves, ready to act, and only Anakin quickly reaching for his blaster stopped the Chancellor from ordering yet another assassination, or would it be an execution, right then and there.

"You are slipping in your words again, Chancellor. Consider taking some basic to intermediate level vocabulary lessons. Grammar too. I wish you good day."

Unfazed by the Chancellor's rant, Padmé gracefully rose and made to exit the office, followed by Anakin, who glared back behind his shoulder as he followed his wife out, his steely blue eyes never leaving the Chancellor and his guards, and his hand never leaving his blaster.

"Don't you dare walk out on me vile woman..."

Master Sifo-Dyas awaited the two dutifully outside. His eyebrows rose as Padmé emerged, the two exchanging an all too familiar look that immediately and silently conveyed to the Jedi the usual shenanigans that just occurred in the new Chancellor's office, where Nute Gunray's histrionics could still be heard from behind closed doors. "The usual?"

"Should we expect any better," Padmé asked, shrugging. "His entire Chancellorship is a waste of time, though he clearly and especially delights in tormenting me."

"Thank you once more for your protection, Master Jedi," Anakin followed, nodding respectfully and professionally. "We cannot thank the Council enough for taking up so much of your time and Master Obi-Wan's."

As the couple walked past him, Sifo-Dyas spared one last suspicious glance towards the closed doors of the Chancellor's office, then dutifully trailed his charges as they made their leave. He shook his head. "We do our duty without pride and with no need for gratitude or thanks."

The old Jedi master stopped. Hearing his footsteps cease, Padmé and Anakin turned towards the man.

"Senator," he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper again, "it is time. You must do your duty to the Galaxy now. We cannot afford to delay any further. Do you understand? You  _must_  understand."

Padmé sighed, appearing sad but resigned to the former member of the Jedi Council. "I was afraid you would bring this up now." She paced the hallway, as if trying to make a decision, stopping just before the Jedi master. Leaning in so that her head was placed as close to his ear as possible without appearing unduly intimate, she replied softly, "it will be done. We are running out of time for the Galaxy. I will make the arrangements."

Sifo-Dyas nodded, his stern countenance unable to hold back his satisfaction at her answer. His eyes found those of the young bodyguard, the boy whom many on the Council still believed to be the Chosen One. Such prophecies did not matter to him, only that he was on the right side, that he was willing to fight and die for Amidala. The boy's resolve matched his own, Sifo-Dyas realized as he stared into his blue eyes. Kriff the council on everything else.

Seemingly reading the Jedi's mind, the boy spoke. "Today starts the first day towards the restoration of the Galaxy. We will not fail."

 


	3. Chapter 3

The stormy, unsettled atmosphere of Kamino mirrored what Anakin Skywalker felt in his soul. He did not like this planet and all it stood for, and he did not like it when he and Padmé first discovered it years ago after detailed perusing from the late Darth Sidious's most well hidden files. But they both understood then, as now, that the cloners here and their product, as Anakin voiced the word so distastefully in his head, would hold ultimately hold the key to the triumph of the Sith order.

"So you say you've been working on this...project for the last ten years?" Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan seemed equally uneasy as his colleagues. Only the Jedi Master who had commissioned the clones all those years ago, Master Sifo-Dyas, looking perfectly unfazed by their setting, did not seem bothered by the abject scale in the reality of his creation.

"That is correct, Senator," the Kaminoan replied. Her name was Taun We, their official guide on the planet, a high ranking official who reported directly to the planet's prime minister and who displayed an entirely sterile, or rather indifferent, attitude towards the thousands of sentients she and her people had bred. "The original template, one Jango Fett formerly of Mandalore, disappeared years ago, but we have his cells on file to continue the process indefinitely if necessary."

Of course, Anakin knew exactly what had happened to the original 'template'. The bounty hunter had perished at his own hands when he and Padmé stormed Jabba the Hutt's Palace as one of his training exercises. They had visited Kamino months before their secret mission to Tatooine, secretly inspecting the project without the knowledge of the Kaminoans. Padmé had said with satisfaction that they were the first Sith to visit the clones, seeing as Sidious never got the chance before they killed him. Whether the late Sith Master had learned of Sifo-Dyas's actions by happenstance or caused it himself they were unsure of, but Padmé suspected the latter.

_"He is very capable of influencing the dreams and visions of others," the then Queen had said to him when they were both so much younger. "It was how he lured me into his trap, and I have no doubt he is capable of manipulating even a more powerful Jedi."_

On a subsequent visit in the last days of Padmé's reign as Naboo's monarch, they discovered a young orphaned clone whose genetics had been unaltered by his cloners. Padmé arranged for another bounty hunter to kidnap the young boy, who seemed to have revered the bounty hunter Fett as a father figure, and spirit him away to one of the more reputable orphanages somewhere on Corellia. Neither Taun We or Lama Su, the Prime Minister, made any mention of that particularly unique and very missing clone, which gave Anakin more reason to distrust the two.

"And they are programmed to follow orders," Master Dooku asked, as Taun We escorted the small group to a training room, where one of the clones led hundreds of others in an exercise regimen. Sifo-Dyas had vouched for his lone remaining friend and ally on the Jedi Council, and his presence here was unsurprising to them, as even Obi-Wan had let slip a few times how disillusioned the old Jedi Master was with the Council's continued deference to Chancellor Gunray.

"They are bred to serve the Republic," Taun We answered back.

"We represent the true Republic," Sifo-Dyas interjected strongly, "what's left of it anyhow."

"Then they will obey your commands," Taun We assured him. "As the original commissioner, Master Jedi, I will defer to your judgment on political matters pertaining to the Republic, separated we here on Kamino are from the Core Worlds."

Considering her diplomatic answer, Anakin realized the Kaminoan was not completely ignorant of galactic politics, and where her clients currently stood within that context. Still, she knew where her credits came from, and so long as the flow continued, so went the reigns of this grand army.

"How do you actually ensure they obey orders," Kara asked, the former twi'lek slave naturally suspicious of the cloners. For good reason, Anakin thought.

"Each Clone has been embedded within them an inhibitor chip," Taun We answered as they approached the leader in the room, a bald headed man who resembled his fellow clones in most of his facial features.

"That sounds very similar to a slave chip," Anakin said, interrupting the Kaminoan. He looked to Kara, who nodded voicelessly in agreement.

"I can assure you it is nothing of the sort," Taun We replied neutrally, though Anakin could sense her anxiety rise. She walked up to the clone commander. "Trooper 7567..."

"7567," Anakin asked incredulously. "They do not even deserve names from you?"

"Well," the clone looked back and forth at his breeder and her clients, unsure of who to defer to, "my brothers call me Rex...sir."

"Rex," Anakin said, swinging his full attention to the clone captain and letting the name marinate on his tongue. "How do you feel about this chip they stuck in your head?"

"I was not aware of it before, sir..."

"Anakin," he said. "Call me Anakin."

"Very well, Anakin. I don't know much about chips, but good soldiers follow orders. I know my brothers and I live to serve..."

"Soldiers serve and follow orders," Padmé said, finally voicing in on the debate, "but no soldier ought to be a slave." She turned to Taun We. "What instructions have you programmed onto these inhibitor chips?"

"We await your instructions Senator," Taun We started. "The chips as they stand make each unit more docile and compliant with orders. Of course, any orders you would like hard coded onto the chips will..."

"There will be no orders hard coded onto the chips," Padmé instructed harshly, and even Mon Mothma seemed taken aback by her vehemence.

"Are you sure," the Chandrilian senator whispered to her colleague, though her words were audible for all to hear in the small room. "I mean, there are millions of these...clones. If they were to rebel or switch sides..."

"They are soldiers, and we will treat them as soldiers, not slaves," Padmé interrupted, and as Mon retreated back into the group, it was clear to all her authority over her colleagues. "They will serve, but we will earn their service...right, Captain Rex?"

"Beyond my paygrade, your excellency." The captain's tone was neutral, like that of his cloners, but Anakin could sense no small amount of satisfaction and gratitude emanating from the man. So they did possess emotions, regardless of what Taun We told them.

"Instruct your Prime Minister to deactivate all the chips," Padmé continued, leading the group out of the room into the hallway overlooking a massive loading dock where below, tens of thousands of troops, adorned in the armor styled after the original Mandalorian host, paraded and maneuvered in perfect discipline. She looked to Bail and Mon beside her, and to her two Jedi escorts. "We will then arrange for a rotation to permanently remove them."

"Your compassion is to be appreciated," Sifo-Dyas answered, and it pleased Anakin how everyone, including the Jedi, all found themselves naturally deferring to his wife. Even the original commissioner of the clones, whose acquaintance and subsequent friendship he and Padmé had arranged as part of their plans on Cato Neimoidia, now seemed ready to turn over the final say on his pet project to the one politician in the galaxy who had won his trust. "But these are hard times, and there will be those who would seek to take control of such a powerful weapon."

"I understand your fears, Master Jedi," Padmé replied. "But these men are sentients, not merely weapons. Their lives and their rights matter just as much as anyone's, and if we fail to pay heed to that, we will become no better than the Trade Federation." Her tone danced between deference and command towards the Jedi whose approval and trust they needed above all else. He had clearly taken a liking to the young Senator, and Anakin could not help but figure that part of it was due to her physical appearance. He did not worry though, for if the old Jedi felt any lust for his wife, it was long repressed, buried under countless layers of Jedi brainwashing from decades under the yoke of the Order and its supposed Code. But surely it did influence his judgment, even slightly, though Anakin felt that Sifo-Dyas was taken more than anything else by the force of his wife's personality and reputation. If anything, he sensed almost a grandfatherly concern and fondness from the Jedi towards Padmé and himself by association, something neither one of them expected when they set out to catch his attention and earn his trust.

"You are correct," Sifo-Dyas finally conceded after a brief moment of silence in which they all gazed at the vast army below in both awe and apprehension. "The Force flows through them as it does all beings. They deserve our respect, as we would pay to all innocent beings in the galaxy."

"Then it is decided," Bail said, his relief evident as he sensed the consensus being reached between Senator and Jedi. "They will serve freely, under their own willpower."

"Look at them," Dooku said, nothing bothering to hide his unabashed admiration for the parading clone army. "I sense, my friends, the beginning of a new era here today. A grand era of peace, and justice. May the Force be with us all in the days to come."

* * *

Padmé tossed up a prayer, thanking the Gods and her beloved Naboo once again for providing her with the perfect weather and setting on this most crucial of days. Flanking her on either side of the podium were her closest allies in the Senate: Bail Organa, Mon Mothma, Kara Wipper'lom, Garm Bel Iblis, Onaconda Farr, and many others, including Fang Zar, who looked like he had aged from merely old to ancient since the occupation of his homeworld. There were more than a few Jedi who had made the trip to Theed as well, Sifo-Dyas and Dooku leading a smaller contingent that included Masters Yarael Poof and Agen Kolar. To their opposite sat Queen Jamillia, who seemed fairly uneasy at the spectacle, her eyes never really leaving the hundreds of thousands of clone troopers and ships standing in formation, forming the backdrop of the holonet conference atop what was usually tranquil grassland just outside of Naboo's capital city.

As the mumblings of the holonet reporters and the gathered crowded died down, all the politicians looked to Padmé, who stood at the center of the delegation. Clearing her throat, she began her speech.

"I speak today to all citizens and sentients in the Republic and beyond. I will not mince words, for the circumstances that brought us together here on this plain do not allow for frivolity. Ten standard years ago, the Trade Federation defied the Republic and, starting here on Naboo, began a pattern of deviant and lawless behavior that continues to this day. They flouted the laws and traditions of the Republic and stood responsible for the deaths of thousands on my beloved homeworld, but with the help of the Jedi and those who stood willing to fight for the cause of freedom, we were able to take back what was ours.

Many worlds are not so lucky today. The dark cloud which engulfed Naboo so many years ago has infiltrated the very core of our Republic, perverting the institution, turning from a shield for the helpless into a shield for the reckless and soulless. The storm intensifies, spreads, and worlds and civilizations most disposed to peace and tranquility find themselves first in line for the fire."

She looked around her, sparing an especially sympathetic look at Fang Zar.

"Most of my fellow Senators gathered here on Naboo as I speak come from the most peaceful of worlds, having never considered before the vile threat of invasion and subjugation, much less under the auspices of a Republic that has protected them for a thousand years."

She gestured around at her settings, the tranquil Naboo prairie under a brilliant yet gentle sun lovingly.

"I stand here before you supremely blessed, having enjoyed an idyllic childhood on my beloved home planet, fostered and nurtured and allowed to learn, grow, and one day lead my people the best I could through war and peace alike. Some of my allies and representatives standing beside me today come from the harshest origins, including even slavery, while others have the privilege of being born into nobility. What brings us together is not an avaricious yearning for power, but the fervent desire to do good for our world, for the galaxy, but regardless of our shared and varied histories, the continued trajectory of the Republic of today under its current leadership promises to ensure that few will ever again receive the opportunity we were blessed with, to by our best efforts, serve the innocent as best we can, with clear consciences, standing firm for freedom, democracy, and opportunity for all."

She looked down, her face as somber as her plain, black dress, as if every inch and fiber of her essence was mourning the death of the principles that she had just voiced.

"I love the Republic. I grew up venerating this holied institution which has withstood the trials of time for over thousands of years.

But the Republic as I knew it to be, as so many of us who loved and cherished what we understood it to be, no longer exists. Historians can debate the roots of our failure, whether it stretches back years or even generations before this day, but today, on this most vital day, we do not have time for such philosophical deliberations. The time has come for action."

She pivoted her body, gesturing back at the figurative bantha in the room, the endless formations of lethally armed Clone soldiers hovering above the gathered reporters, politicians, and Jedi.

"It matters not whether we credit luck or fate, whether we thank the Force or the collision of many varied forces, auspicious and capricious , but never the less we stand supremely grateful for the fact that the specter of the darkness overtaking the Galaxy did not go unnoticed. Members of the venerable Jedi Order, faithful stewards of our Republic beyond memory's reach and bestowed with the curse of foresight, envisioned years ago the trials that we, who revere the founding principles of the Republic, undergo in these dark times. A grand army was subsequently commissioned by the Jedi over a decade prior on behalf of the Republic...but not the farce on Coruscant which today deigns to wield that sacred word and institution as a weapon for their own selfish interests. We who stand here on Naboo today represent the true and pure ideals of the Republic from the days of Ruusan, and we who stand here on Naboo today will fight to our dying breath to preserve the freedoms and blessings has represented over the last thousand years.

I hate war. I have seen its horrors firsthand, having reluctantly led at blasterpoint the necessary liberation of my planet and my peoples. None who stand by me here relish or take lightly the thought of war and all this abhorrent concept entails...but when oppression knocks at the threshold of our homes and hearths, hard decisions must be made, and action must be taken. Our aim is not aggression, this army not a tool to further our collective ambitions. We seek only to protect our freedoms, our lives, and the soul of our cultures and civilizations, and we welcome under our protection all who stand for right and fear the reach and breadth of the oncoming storm.

When I spoke to the Senate on the eve of the last election, I said there will be a reckoning.

Those words hold true.

By the actions and consequences of a small majority of the Senate, they have passed the burden of decision from themselves to the galaxy as a whole. My fellow citizens and sentients of all worlds and species, we all each must reckon with the forces which comprise the deepest recesses of our hearts. Do we yield, or do we fight? Do we sleep, or do we act? Shall we surrender our fortunes to the stars, or reach to take control of our own fates? The wheel of oppression, having been set along its course, finds its victims without prejudice. For many such as the brave insurgents on the embattled world of Sern Prime, the choice is bitter, immediate, and final.

I seek not to manipulate, but I cannot hide this critical message behind flowery prose. The choice, the reckoning we all must make, every sentient being in this galaxy, boils down to nothing less than good against evil, and it grieves me beyond words to say that at this late hour, there can be no middle ground between the two, for indifference will hurt only the weak and help only those who prey upon them.

Violence is  _the_  last resort, and not all may choose to fight, nor should they. But each and every one of us must decide in our hearts where we stand. Even if our choice remains silent, hidden within the deepest chambers of our souls, it must be made, for left unfettered, the darkness will unquestionably overwhelm us all. When might overcomes right, when the light of integrity and selflessness find themselves overwhelmed by the shadow of greed and ambition, we who stand here today will never accede to the death of dignity and liberty. Our hands are forced, and to all who witness this moment, the hour of our collective reckoning has arrived. The future course of the galaxy, of the lives and fates of every one of us, from Senators to monarchs to slaves, depends on what truths lie within your soul and define the very essences of your beings."

She nodded her head reverently and silently, the words spoken and the moment passed. With the gathered reporters too encapsulated in shock to speak or ask any further questions, the now former Senator turned to leave the stage, followed wordlessly one by one by her followers.

* * *

_"...and absolutely outrergeous that the Jedi Council themselves would stoop to commit treason..."_

Obi-Wan sighed, knowing he and the Council had no choice but to let the Supreme Chancellor finish his ravings.

_"...a traitor army built under your kriffing noses damn you all to seven hells..."_

He exchanged a look at Masters Yoda and Windu, who avoided his gaze despite the fact of their masks of Jedi serenity were clearly wearing thin.

_"...and I swear you Jedi, you cursed bastardatazations of the Republic, each and every one of you will pay dearly for every credit the Trade Federation loses..."_

Before he even realized what was happening, Obi-Wan Kenobi heard his own voice speaking out against the Supreme Chancellor of the now very splintered Republic.

"With all due respect, Chancellor Gunray, you are the Chancellor of the  _Republic_ , not the  _Trade Federation_. Shouldn't you be more concerned about the bottom line and the survival of the  _Republic_?"

Each Jedi in the room felt the palpable rage emanating from the Supreme Chancellor as he stared at them through the holo in incredulous shock, and as the vile string of indescribable profanities followed, Obi-Wan thanked himself for never having taken a class in Neimoidian when he was a Padawan.

"Well," he commented after the Chancellor abruptly ended the transmission, "we can be sure that the Chancellor himself is not a Sith Lord, else he would have Force choked all of us right here and now."

Mace shook his head, still in disbelief at their current predicament. "The Chancellor does make a good point. Somehow the Jedi Order has become invariably entangled with Amidala and her Clone Army, even though most of us had no clue of its existence until her Proclamation, seeing that it was commissioned by a former Council member."

"And present, there were, three current members of the Council at the Naboo Proclamation," Yoda added, referring to the name that the holonets, and thus the galaxy, had already bequeathed to Amidala's speech. "Gives the impression, it does, of the Jedi Order's support."

"Rumors that may not be wholly untrue," Obi-Wan added. "I have heard many a whisper from Masters and Padawans alike regarding their sympathies towards the plight of Amidala and her allies, especially towards Sern Prime and other occupied worlds. Many, I believe, have given voice to their hesitation to take arms against those whom they would feel to be...on the right side of this brewing conflict."

"An inevitable conflict," Mace groaned, "and the Jedi Order is already vastly divided from the Council on down. I'd say the Sith have already succeeded."

"And yet the Force is still clouded by the Dark Side," Adi Gallia commented, "and we still don't know which side of this conflict is under the influence of the Sith."

"Neither, or both," Mace said. "Anything is possible at this point, though I still find it hard to believe that strong minded Senators such as Amidala or Organa could be manipulated by anyone, much less a Sith Lord."

"And yet the evidence shows otherwise," Ki-Adi-Mundi countered. "Their actions more than anyone else's have served to divide the Republic and the Jedi Order. They may be the unwitting faces of this insurrection, but surely the Sith are manipulating their actions for their own ends behind the scenes."

"I would say it is improbable, but not impossible," Obi-Wan said, remembering his ill-thought out premise voiced months ago before the Council that Amidala herself could be the sith lord. Such ungenerous thoughts passed when she lost the election and became the victim of almost daily assassination attempts, but the young Senator had certainly found a new way of protecting herself. "Masters, I would counter with the most respect that Chancellor Gunray has been as responsible for dividing the Republic as anyone. Perhaps the most culpable, even."

"But rebellion is not the answer," Ki-Adi-Mundi argued back. "The Republic must be healed from within! Any other option would be anarchy!"

Yoda sighed sadly, seeing the beginning of yet another unwinnable debate. He put one small hand forward, silencing the others. "Clouded, the Force indeed is. An unsolvable puzzle, the state of the Republic has become. Move, Senators Amidala and Zar will, to liberate Sern Prime and Mimban, and begin it will, the war between the clone and droid armies."

"And what role does the Jedi Order have within this war," Mace asked, and Obi-Wan swore he had never seen the senior Jedi look so uncertain.

"Force action against their own consciences, the Council cannot ask of our knights. Neutral, the Council will remain, until the truth of the matter is revealed to us. Free to act for good, Masters and Knights will be, so long as the Code is followed and members seek to act for the assistance of others, rather than their own personal gain."

"The decision is...nothing? Besides a further division of the Order and further chaos within the Republic?" Ki-Adi-Mundi looked as incredulous and indignant as Gunray minutes before.

"Made a decision, I have not. The decision made for us already, it was." Shaking his head sadly, the diminutive Grandmaster strode down and moved to leave the chambers. "To Dagobah, I will go. A leave, I will take, from this Council, to meditate on the state of the galaxy and the Force. Pray for, I do, that whatever comes, that the Jedi, the Republic, and those who lead the Clones stay within the light."

"They choose nothing," Quinlan Vos said over the comm later that day from whatever unidentified planet he was on, once the Council had communicated Master Yoda's vague directive to Jedi scattered across the galaxy.

"And yet by allowing each member to follow their own conscience," Obi-Wan said, "they have chosen everything, every possibility. Only the Force can guide us now."

"I have my doubts," Quinlan said thoughtfully, "but there could be more logic to the decision than meets the eye."

"Me too. It may very well be that the Jedi can do more good serving both sides of the conflict than just one."

"I don't know when this mission will end," Quinlan said. "I just hope there's still an Order for me to come back to when it's over."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short hiatus. Been super busy, and writing an entire freaking speech took a bit of time. But updates should be a bit more regular in the near future.


	4. Chapter 4

Two starfighters cruised through the dark vacuum of space, seemingly unfettered by the chaos surrounding them. Spinning, twirling, and dodging the cacophony of debris, blasts, and fighters friendly and foe alike, they sped as if propelled by the hand of destiny itself towards the icy surface of Sern Prime.

"Force, that was a close one," Obi-Wan said as his fighter rocked with turbulence, having been clipped by the explosion of the droid fighter he had just blasted into oblivion.

"Running behind, Master Jedi?"

He swore he could hear the smirk on the young man's face. "Just dealing with a few more obstacles than you. Don't mind me."

"Kept waiting by a Master Jedi," Anakin remarked smartly, swerving and simultaneously blasting three more enemy fighters out of the sky. "Do I have to teach you that the  _art_  of avoiding obstacles is not merely luck, but skill? Even the Force, perchance, though not all of us are lucky enough to be able to wield whatever that is on command."

"I'll show you a Force," Obi-Wan mumbled, careful not to finish his sentence with a word he had not used since a particularly nasty argument with Bruck Chun well before he became a Padawan. Instead, he jammed his accelerators, determined not to let some former Senator's boytoy beat him to the punch. Sensing his approach, Anakin's fighter seemed to careen even further into the distance.

"Master Tachi," the boy said in an infuriatingly respectful tone, "how goes the search for the control center?"

"I think Ferus and I are closing in," they heard over the comm.

It would have made sense if, after Anakin's accidental dismantling of the Control Ship over the Battle of Naboo, for the Trade Federation to decentralize their control centers, scattering them across several regions of a contested area, but Gunray and his puppet successor, the new Viceroy Rune Haako were clearly too cheap, opting instead to try and hide it somewhere on an occupied planet, often in plain sight and surrounded by civilian population centers. It was despicable and recognition of the need for a careful and precise battle plan was one of the many reasons Obi-Wan had opted to participate in the liberation of Sern Prime from its own Supreme Chancellor.

"Where are you Siri," Obi-Wan asked anxiously. He was not the only Jedi who had chosen to help the Alliance, as Amidala and her cadre were now known as, on a case by case basis, but it made him a bit nervous that his old childhood friend had chosen to accompany Anakin as well. Anakin Skywalker, a nineteen year old kid who was clearly way to young to have been appointed by the Triumvirate to lead such a precarious operation, a decision that clearly signaled to the galaxy which of the supposedly equal Tri-Consulars: Amidala, Organa and Mothma, was actually running the show.

"We think it's somewhere in Currant City here," Siri yelled, obviously running alongside her Padawan somewhere on the planet below. "We're checking a number of hospices...heard rumors from some of the injured refugees we've run across."

"Keep us informed please," Anakin said, surprisingly diplomatic as he asserted his authority. While the the Clone army and any Alliance volunteer officers answered to him, the Jedi acted in the sector as independent agents, a situation that his wife would have certainly briefed him on. "Think it's worth it for us to take a closer look?"

They heard blasts in the background and Obi-Wan frozen momentarily, unable to hide his relief in the Force when he heard her voice again.

"I have a good feeling about this one."

"We'll trust it. Anakin, take care with your fire when we approach the city."

"Of course, Master Jedi. We're here to save lives, not to cause more casualties. Rex, instruct the vanguard to set weapons to stun. We can't afford to be trigger happy until we've assessed the situation."

"Roger that, General."

Dodging another volley of blasts, Obi-Wan shook his head at the absurdity of that title on a teenager. True, many Jedi in history had held similar titles at similar ages, but Anakin, while a most gifted pilot and a decent shot to boot, most definitely lacked the qualifications of even a junior Padawan learner.

Setting their coordinates, they swooped down into the small city located at the edge of one of the planets many permafrost glaciers. Landing his craft, Obi-Wan couldn't help but execute a quadruple somersault with the Force out of his fighter, taking a running start as he activated his lightsaber and began deflecting instantly the barrage of fire coming from a nearby droid battalion.

"Show off," Anakin muttered, but Obi-Wan noticed the smile on his face. The boy actually seemed to be enjoying this!

Lacking a lightsaber, he watched the young general wait impatiently for their clone reinforcements as Obi-Wan finished off the first wave of droids, artfully deflecting each blast back to its origin. With the arrival of the first gunship, Anakin jumped out of the protection of his fighter as well, managing to execute one and a half somersaults before landing awkwardly on his feet next to his Captain. Hitting the ground running as well, the boy pulled out his blaster and started mowing down a line of droids in the rear defenses of the city.

As they continued to advance into the perimeter of the city, it was apparent that the droid army, stationed irregularly and shooting from the windows and alcoves of the civilian huts and apartments, was most keen to use the population of the city as a shield against the liberating army.

"I think I see it," they heard Siri whisper through their comms. "The droid activity by the old academy is extraordinarily heavy. I believe they have stationed the controls in an old gymnasium at the center of campus."

"Which is located in the center of the city," Ferus Olin added dourly.

"Can the two of you make a safe retreat," Obi-Wan asked.

"Affirmative," Siri answered. "They think we're locals. We'll be fine to make it back to the caves. Hopefully they can connect to the outside of town."

"Good luck," Obi-Wan said, his voice softer than usual. He then added, "may the Force be with both of you."

"Form a perimeter around the outer ring road," Anakin ordered, pacing next to Rex and surveying their holo-map of the town. "Keep the enemy surrounded. Captain Rex, order the rear to form a defensive perimeter around us to preempt any counterattacks."

"We won't have much time, General," Rex replied back. Obi-Wan noticed that the clone commander seemed perfectly comfortable talking frankly with his young general. And the boy seemed not to mind at all. "The clankers will notice the concentration of Alliance troops and know we've found the control center."

"We'll be surrounded quickly," Obi-Wan added. "This may very well be a trap."

"Then we'll spring it," Anakin said, too boldly for Obi-Wan's taste. He approached the Jedi. "How long before  _your_  reinforcements?"

"Sooner than you think," Obi-Wan replied, just as they heard the approach of several other gunships down onto the planet's surface. Out of one of them jumped Aayla Secura, a young twi'lek knight. From another one emerged Kit Fisto, whom Anakin recognized as a member of the Jedi Council, along with a small Togruta girl who looked more youngling than Padawan. His mood clearly cheered, Obi-Wan ran to greet them.

"Masters Fisto, Secura," he nodded, acknowledging his compatriots. He then turned to the young Togruta. "I'm sorry, I do not we've been properly introduced."

"This is my Padawan...," Kit began.

"Ahsoka Tano," the Togruta interrupted, ignoring a dirty look from her master. "A pleasure to meet you, Master Kenobi. I've listened to many a lecture about your missions."

"All interesting ones, I hope. The pleasure's all mine..." Obi-Wan started before he was interrupted by Anakin's arrival.

"I trust we've enjoyed all our pleasantries," Anakin interrupted. Despite the urgency of his words, he tone was meeker than usual, as if he was trying to show that he did not mean to be rude. "The situation is critical. We must disable the droid control center before we are outnumbered."

"...and that would be General Skywalker," Obi-Wan said, formally introducing the young man to the newly arrived Jedi. He couldn't help but hear a light scoff from the young Togruta.

"Kinda young to be a General, Master," she said to Kit, not bothering to whisper.

"Ahsoka..."

"You're a snippy one there for a Jedi," Anakin said, clearly surprised by the young Jedi's impudence. He looked indignantly at Obi-Wan and then Rex, who had both just arrived on scene as well. Both seemed to be trying very hard not to laugh at him.

"Ahsoka," Kit admonished again, then turning to Anakin. "I'm sorry for my Padawan's...rather immature notions of protocol..."

"Protocol? This is a war zone, master!"

"...which I will make a note correct to ensure she learns her lessons in the future."

"No worries, Master Jedi," Anakin said, clearly not too bothered by the Padawan's remark. "But we better move fast for there to be any sort of a future for snippy here."

"Hey! I don't appreciate that name!"

"Okay. Snips then."

The Togruta rolled her eyes. "Whatever, little General Skyguy. Let's get a move on."

Anakin, Rex and Obi-Wan all exchanged a look at each other.

"And I thought all Jedi were boring stiffs like Obi-Wan..."

* * *

"Captain Cody, how goes the blockade?" Quickly putting away his comm, Rex pulled out two blasters to obliterate several droids before switching one of them back to the comm.

"We're holding on, but more clankers are swerving in every second."

"Keep up your fire, Captain," Anakin said, his shooting giving Obi-Wan and his Jedi the opening to advance further in towards the city center, their advance led surprisingly by the impudent Togruta girl. Even while Anakin wished he could join them, swinging his lightsabers rather than fire dumbly with his blaster, he did not envy their mission. While he and Clones were still firing stun shots, which did not matter as he had made custom adjustments to the frequency for each shot to be enough to short circuit the droids, the Jedi were dealing with live fire, with little room for error as they had to either deflect the enemy shots back directly into the droids, or harmlessly onto the ground.

"Way too close, Padawan." Kit Fisto yelled at Ahsoka after another one of her deflections rang too close to one of the fleeing bystanders.

"No harm no foul, master!"

Anakin watched the Nautolan exchange a weary look at Obi-Wan, who shot him a sympathetic look, and couldn't help but wonder what kind of Padawan he would have made if Padmé hadn't rescued him from the Jedi. Probably not too different from this girl, whose master seemed to already be entirely overwhelmed by her. He wondered how much patience Obi-Wan would have had for him. Surprisingly a decent amount thus far since they had been reacquainted, though he and Padmé had driven him close to his limits on Ryloth almost a year ago. Certainly there was no way Obi-Wan could have been as patient as Padmé though. Nor would the training incentives he could have dangled been more...inviting...than what Padmé had to offer.

Unconsciously worked up by both the battle and thoughts of his beloved wife, stuck playing the helpless politician back on Naboo, Anakin found himself running ahead towards the Jedi.

"General," Rex yelled, catching up with Anakin, "careful sir."

"Thanks for the concern, Captain," Anakin yelled back, kneeling and shooting behind a durasteel barrier, "but I'll be fine. Just keep up."

"You sure? You don't have all those fancy Jedi abilities up there. Better to wait for us to clear the sector first."

"I serve as the Jedi serve. As you and all your brothers serve, Captain."

The Clone captain merely grunted, a gesture of both respect and frustration at his superior's stubbornness.

"I swear General, next time before we deploy I'll need you to sign an affidavit that I tried my best. Else Consular Amidala will have me skinned alive."

Anakin laughed, the Clone not knowing how eerily accurate his words were. "Agreed, Captain. Though she'll skin what's left of me first, dead or alive, so you may have a few minutes to make your escape."

* * *

As they surveyed the wreckage of the droid control room, even Obi-Wan seemed to emanate a sense of satisfaction as all the frenetic activity on Sern Prime came to a close, thank the Force. He walked over to the young General, who along with Rex were already studying the final tallies of the battle.

"Congrats on your first victory, General Skywalker."

"A remarkable feat for someone so young," Kit Fisto added behind. Anakin did not fail to catch the eyeroll from his Padawan.

"Not too shabby, General Skyguy."

"Thanks Masters Jedi...Snips." Anakin walked over to Siri Tachi and her Padawan, who had emerged from hiding once they reached the inner city to help them dispatch the last of the droid battalions. "I couldn't have done it without your assistance, nor the tremendous bravery and satisfaction from your men, Captains." He gestured to Rex and Cody, the latter of whom had arrived from the upper battlezones after the droid fighters lost power, tens of thousands still floating harmlessly in the planet's atmosphere, waiting for collection from the Alliance's scavenger fleet. "Even Ferus here, he wasn't a complete liability."

Obi-Wan sighed. Anakin and the older Padawan had seemed to clash immediately during the initial mission briefings. Ferus Olin seemed to chafe at the idea of answering to someone younger than he, though Siri had reminded him repeatedly that the Alliance general held no actual authority over the Jedi. And Anakin seemed not to take it so well when the young man did not take kindly to his friendly ribbings, which Obi-Wan assumed were actually his attempts to try and mollify the tension. He was about to speak when he felt a tug in the Force from Siri, whose facial expressions indicated that she would take care of things.

"We  _all_  worked together very well. This was a true team effort, but we should be most grateful for the fact that the people of Sern Prime will finally know peace and freedom after months of suffering."

"I couldn't have said it better babe."

Obi-Wan could have sworn he saw the young man wink at his childhood friend, and as Ferus bristled visibly and again moved to speak, with a subtle shrug of her shoulders he sank back to her side, letter his master handle the situation.

"Is the husband of a Tri-Consular of the Alliance flirting with me," Siri asked playfully, and even Kit and Aayla seemed shocked that she would speak so boldly before so many.

The smirk never left Anakin's face, who actually had the gall to bow to the older Jedi. "The  _eternally_  loyal husband of Consular Amidala only wishes to very diplomatically communicate his gratitude to the Jedi Order on behalf of the Tri-Consul. The  _eternally_  loyal husband of Consular Amidala would also wish to very diplomatically convey his wish on behalf of the Tri-Consul that the interests of the Jedi will align once again with the Alliance in the future because, given the opportunity, this dream team reunited is no equal match for any force in the galaxy."

His diplomacy broke the tension, and everyone in the room, even Ferus, chuckled politely, though Ahsoka in her corner pretended to yawn in boredom. Obi-Wan put his arm around the young general's shoulders.

"Be careful what you wish for. Master Dooku should have no problems with the liberation of Mimban, considering the sparse force sent by Viceroy Haako to garrison that planet." Very diplomatically as well he named as the culprit the current Viceroy of the Trade Federation, rather than the former one, now Supreme Chancellor, who would be extremely displeased by the most recent events on Sern Prime, but mostly helpless to do anything more than rant and rave endlessly on the holonets. "Felucia, on the other hand...Felucia could be a problem I see some of us reacquainting ourselves upon."

He looked around the room especially at Siri, gray blue eyes probing her thoughts and whether she may see fit to accompany them on another campaign. On one hand, it was nice working with his old friend, whom he had not seen in years prior to preparations for this battle. On the other hand, it troubled him that the life of someone he cared deeply about would hinge so much upon such a young and inexperienced commander as Anakin Skywalker. True, he had displayed both extreme competence and bravery on Sern Prime, as well as a surprising amount of tact in not overstepping his boundaries with the Jedi save for some harmless barbs between the two younger Padawans present. And Obi-Wan did not worry about his own dependency on the young man. Or that of even Masters Fisto and Secura. Which, he forced himself to admit, brought him to the true crux of his worries...that Siri's continued proximity was stirring within him feelings he had long thought dead.

Fortunately, Anakin spoke before he could dig deeper into his anxieties.

"Must me only meet in war, Master Kenobi?" He motioned at Rex. "Rex and I are off to an undisclosed location for peace talks with some undisclosed parties. I can't say more, of course, unless you explicitly agree to participation as a joint venture, but despite my presence and that of other undisclosed Jedi masters...we may not be enough considering the amount of politicians to protect."

"I'm afraid I must decline," Obi-Wan said, lifting his arm and distancing himself from the young man. "You said the key word there...politics. While my old friends Dooku and Sifo-Dyas may have decided their mandate includes that treacherous landscape, I believe I speak for most of us here that our cooperation will be limited only to purely altruistic ventures."

The boy bowed again.  _Amidala really taught him to lay it on thick_ , Obi-Wan thought.

"Very well, then. I believe Consular Amidala did tell me the  _Duchess_  was most curious as to the precise number of Jedi protectors who will be present at the undisclosed peace conference. I will sadly let her know not to expect any additional members of your esteemed order."

"I very neutrally wish the best for all parties in the upcoming negotiations," Obi-Wan said, his face an impassive mask. Inside, his blood boiled, as much as a serene Jedi like himself allowed it to, anyhow.

_Did he say the word Duchess like I think he said the word Duchess? Does he know? How could he possibly know? Does Amidala know then? Who told her of our connection? Would she be so reckless? Oh, it's been so many years..._

The young general, seemingly ignorant of his inner turmoil, went on to bid his farewells to the other Jedi, even deigning to shake the hand of Ferus Olin, who under the watchful eye of his master managed to bite his tongue during the exchange.

 _I have a bad feeling about this_ , Obi-Wan thought, wondering if he could plead illness for an immediate retreat back to Coruscant.


	5. Chapter 5

"Peace..."

"Requires protection, milady." Fang Zar's mood seemed considerably brightened in the days since his homeworld's liberation from the Trade Federation's clutches. "Sern Prime has always been a pacifist planet, just like Mandalore. But my people would still be toiling under the yoke of bondage if it weren't for the actions of the Alliance and yes...our Clone army."

"This is precisely the difference," the Duchess Satine Kryze rebuked from her seat of honor at the center of the table. "Sern Prime has always been a pacifist planet. Mandalore has a history of war and violence so for us, the margin of error is that much thinner."

"I speak from personal experience, your excellency, that if and when an invasion comes, you will find your margins reduced to nothing." Padmé sat opposite the Duchess on the conference table, flanked on the table to either side by Bail Organa and Mon Mothma, flanked by more representatives of the Alliance such as Fang and Garm and Onaconda radiating outwards from the center three. Standing directly behind her were her two main bodyguards, her husband and Master Sifo-Dyas, while Dooku manned the entrance to the small castle sitting at the edge of a balmy lake.

"We do not seek occupation," Mon Mothma tried to assure the Duchess. "The clone armies will come nowhere close to Mandalore or any associated system unless you do indeed come under attack."

"This is an agreement of protection," Bail Organa added. "No strings, nothing more. The Alliance asks nothing from Mandalore, whether it be credits or taxes or even any statements of political support."

"Anything agreement we may come to here on Takodana will remain as discrete as your excellency wishes," Padmé affirmed. "If you wish to send a message to the Chancellor to stay away from Mandalore, then we can make public a treaty. If you fear more the political implications internally from such a treaty, then I promise you that the lips of every member of the Alliance contingent will be sealed."

The Duchess of Mandalore studied the faces of her negotiation counterparts, trying to spot the crack in the facade. Everything about this offer seemed too good to be true, and Satine in her years of experience knew better than to trust something like that on its surface level.

"This all sounds very good," she said finally. "Mandalore does nothing, agrees to nothing, but if we find ourselves attacked by the Republic, then you will come to our rescue."

"And we will add very specific language in any agreement," Padmé said, "that upon the expulsion of any invading forces, the Alliance will immediately withdraw all forces at the Duchess's request. As Senator Zar can attest, over ninety-five percent of the Forces used to liberate Sern Prime have already left the system."

Takodana had been Sifo-Dyas's idea. They needed a planet out of reach the Republic for safety's sake, and outside of Alliance territory for plausible deniability on the Duchess's behalf. The old Jedi immediately brought up the mild weathered planet, saying he knew of a friend who had old castle that would be available for their use. It seemed fair to assume that this was where her Jedi friend had spent most, if not all, of his time in exile, and the planet held more than its share of his secrets. Sifo-Dyas had hidden away the Trade Federation's blackmail footage of the Senate shortly before Gunray's election, and Padmé wondered in her head how close she was to that most dangerous holocron, one she had held in her own hands before handing over to the Jedi.

Satine studied her fingernails, before looking back up at her counterparts. "What's the catch?"

"Catch," Bail asked, confused.

"You give everything, and ask for nothing. Consulars, your sterling reputations precede you, and I trust your intentions are generous, I really do. But no one in this galaxy asks to give in exchange for nothing in return, excepting possibly the Jedi Order. There must be something the Alliance seeks to gain from such a treaty."

"You are partially correct," Padmé conceded. "We have nothing to gain, and I prefer to keep the terms of any potential treaty as such. But were the Trade Federation to gain control of Mandalore, we have everything to lose. Yours is a warrior culture, as you no doubt understand better than all of us, and the warlike tendencies of your ancestors are indeed best kept contained to history museums and texts. Were Nute Gunray able to harness such negative and latent energies, however, the consequences would be dire, both for Mandalore, and for the galaxy as a whole. This is why the fate of Mandalore is critically entwined with the fate of the Alliance."

The Duchess looked at her closest adviser, Prince Tal Merrik, who took the prompt to give his opinion of the negotiations. "Your excellency, you say that you trust the reputations of the Consulars. I take a different view." He turned to look harshly at the Alliance members across the table. "Not only is your offer too good to be true, your sparkling reputations, so carefully crafted, are too good to be true as well!"

"Prince Tal," Satine began, visibly shaken by her advisor's lack of decorum.

"It must be said," the Prince continued. "Look at Consular Amidala, the picture perfect caricature of an idealist, left with no choice but to turn to arms. You would think she has done nothing untoward in her life, personal or professional. It is just all merely coincidence that she began a relationship with her husband the very day he came of age in accordance to Naboo laws..."

"Prince Tal, that is enough!"

The Prince ignored his Duchess's rebuke.

"It's a coincidence too, that she got caught up on events on Ryloth, clearly having had no intention to visit a sovereign planet and manipulate a civil war so she can place her own lackeys at the seats of power..."

"You know nothing of Ryloth," Kara protested from her seat on the table.

"...and perfectly a coincidence that Amidala, and no one else, was the only person who could save Naboo, then the Republic, then the galaxy. If you truly believe this bullsith, your excellency, then..."

The Prince did not get to finish his diatribe before Dooku ran up from the outer halls to the negotiating table. For a second, Padmé saw sheer terror in Tal Merrik's eyes, scared out of his wits that he had seemingly incited a Jedi Master into a murderous rampage, but she sensed that Dooku cared nothing for Mandalorian nobleman at the moment.

"We've received reports of unidentified spacecraft," he said carefully, though Padmé could see the anxiousness in his eyes. Sifo-Dyas tensed immediately, as did Anakin.

"Republic or Alliance," Bail asked, clearly unprepared for such a scenario.

"Neither," Dooku seemed to almost whisper to Sifo-Dyas. "Jedi."

Sifo-Dyas's eyes widened. "Jedi? I did not sense them."

Satine seemed entirely confused. "Are they here to reinforce..."

"Their presences are heavily shielded," Dooku said. "I do not believe this to be a friendly mission."

As if on cue, the doors of the manor slammed open, and five Jedi masters emerged with lightsabers activated. Padmé looked at her husband...they had both sensed the presence of the intruders the moment they entered Takodana airspace, but had to remain impassive in order to maintain their covers.

"What is the meaning of this," she asked, standing. Satine stood too, defiantly facing their unwelcome guests.

"Senators Amidala, Organa, Mothma," Ki-Adi-Mundi began, "you are under arrest."

"Under what charges," Bail Organa asked, and to her surprise, Padmé could feel anger from the man. Good, she thought. It was about time her allies felt some passion for the cause.

"High treason," Saesee Tiin replied. "Conspiracy against the Republic..."

"The Republic is nothing more than a front for the Trade Federation," Mon Mothma yelled back, passion in her voice as well. "Surely the Jedi see this as fact?"

"The Republic must be preserved," Ki-Adi-Mundi shouted.

"We understand the Republic is not perfect," Adi Gallia added, "but rebellion is not the answer. If the problem arises within the Republic, it must be resolved within the Republic."

"You are blind," Sifo-Dyas snarled back at his former brethren. "The Republic has become the very evil the Jedi have sworn themselves to defeat. How can you not see this?"

"Master Sifo-Dyas," Cin Drallig, the Temple battlemaster taunted, "you were never known for the wisdom of your judgment. Perhaps that is why they kicked you off the Council."

"Then why have they never even bothered appointing you to the Council," Dooku asked, stepping forward towards Ki-Adi-Mundi, the Cerulean acting as the leader of this faction. "I am still a current member of the High Council. Do you intend to turn your weapons against your own?"

"We will do what we must," Ki-Adi-Mundi responded, resolve clear in his eyes.

"That Masters Yoda and Windu choose inaction does not mean we will let the Republic fall apart under our very eyes," Depa Billaba said, the pain evident in her eyes as she indirectly condemned her own former master with her words.

"This is a conference of peace," Satine protested. "Mandalore does not fall under the jurisdiction of the Republic! Neither does Takodana."

"You claim to be a pacifist," Ki-Adi-Mundi said contemptuously to the Duchess, "yet here you stand consorting with outlaw warlords. Justice must be served."

"Warlords," Satine asked indignantly. "The Councilors graciously agreed to arrive unaccompanied by their Clone Army upon my request."

"Else you wouldn't be standing here alive," Anakin mouthed maliciously.

"What justice do you see us getting under the auspices of Chancellor Gunray," Padmé asked. "Torture? dismemberment?"

"The Jedi Council will act as a liaison with the Supreme Chancellor," Adi Gallia. "We will not allow any miscarriages of justice."

"You are either naive or ignorant," Dooku intoned in his deep voice, lighting his sword. "Once we cross sabers, the Council as we have known it will cease to exist."

"So be it," Ki-Adi-Mundi stood, raising his weapon in front of him. "Five against two. You are outnumbered. Surrender now, and your crimes may be forgiven before the Council."

"You are nothing more than another wanna be petty despot," Padmé spat at the Cerulean Jedi. "How does Nute Gunray's dick taste, Master Jedi? As vile as his liquor?"

"Stay back," Sifo-Dyas warned her and Anakin as the inched closer to the melee. "They will not hesitate to kill us all."

Padmé looked at Anakin, an unspoken message passing between the two as their two Jedi protectors leaped into action, immediately surrounded and under attack by their Jedi foes.

"Run," Sifo-Dyas yelled at the politicians at the table. "All of you, while you have the chance."

"It is time," Anakin asked softly. Padmé nodded.

"It is time. We will not ask our loyal friends to sacrifice their lives for us."

Every representative at the table gasped as four new lightsabers appeared seemingly out of thin air, and the frail young woman and her teenage husband jumped with supernatural speed into the fray.

"Sith!" Ki-Adi-Mundi cried out as Anakin landed in the middle of the fight, engaging him and Depa just as they were close to disarming Sifo-Dyas. With a furious flurry of blows he drove back the Jedi, Force shoving Saesee Tiin, who was running towards their threesome, very roughly against the back wall, at the very least knocking the Jedi Master out for the time being. To their right, Padmé had similarly driven back Cin Drallig and Depa Billaba's assault on Dooku, and the four warriors now stood side by side facing their counterparts, all recognizing the stalemate, calculating the odds, and ready to strike again at a moment's notice, though no one in the room failed to notice that while the numbers were now even, Padmé's side now outnumbered their enemies in lightsabers, six to four.

"Do you see who you stand in league with now," Ki-Adi-Mundi screamed at his former brothers in arms. "Your foolish ideals have led you to the threshold of the Dark Side. Turn back now, before it's too late!"

Padmé turned to Sifo-Dyas, her eyes hard and weak at the same time. "We are not the Sith of old," she stated firmly, looking back to her colleagues at the negotiating table as well. "Nothing we stand for changes. Our ideals remain the same."

The old Jedi looked at her in understanding, then at Anakin and Dooku. He nodded, and they nodded back at him. "Let's finish this," he said, immediately slashing at Depa. Seeing a weakness in the old Jedi's defenses, Ki-Adi-Mundi moved immediately into the void, hacking at Sifo-Dyas's undefended left side, but his blades came down upon the twin ones, blue and red, as Anakin roughly thrust his weapons, knocking the Cerulean off balance.

"Which Jedi did you kill to get your weapon, boy," he spat out at Anakin.

"We made our own," Anakin said, driving the older Jedi back through the sheer power of his blows. "Why should the Jedi hold the monopoly on Ilum?"

To his right Padmé, movements quicker than even he, had driven herself between Adi Gallia and Cin Drallig, allowing Dooku to press his attack on the latter, two master swordsmen faced off in one last duel to the death. Suddenly, they all heard a deep groan as Saesee Tiin, somehow still alive after being flung against the marble brick wall, managed to force himself to his feet, flinging himself at the group. At first unsure of whom he should attack, his eyes seemed to focus onto Padmé's red blade, and with an unnatural speed he jumped into the air at her, eyes intent on a killing blow.

"Padmé! Watch out!" Feeling the threat to his wife in the Force, Anakin swerved away from Ki-Adi-Mundi, the brief lapse in attention giving the Jedi the opportunity to kick ferociously at his knee while he dodged a strike from Sifo-Dyas.

"Ummphf," Anakin grunted as he fell to the ground, instantly angry at himself for the lapse in focus. He watched in horror as Ki-Adi-Mundi doubled down on this attacks on Sifo-Dyas, Depa Billaba pivoted away from that duel to aim her weapon at Padmé's exposed left side, her two sabers already high in the air to fend off Tiin and Adi Gallia. Thinking quickly, he flung his saber through the air, low enough and parallel to the ground, propelled by his will across the room and slicing straight through Depa's ankles. Screaming, she fell harmlessly onto the ground, and within seconds Anakin was up, sprinting across the room and inserting himself between Ki-Adi-Mundi and Padmé, who had just fended off Saesee Tiin's attack by swerving her body sideways through the air, avoiding his blow while striking true across the back of Adi Gallia's neck, who screamed as she wobbled in pain towards the duel between Dooku and Drallig. Determined to the last, she swung at Dooku as she fell, but off-balance, she missed entirely as Dooku countered with a deadly stab that went through her chest.

"I'm sorry, old friend," the older Jedi said as he struck down his former colleague on the Council, the grief obvious to all in his voice. In the brief moment he contemplated his final trespass against the Order he once held dear, he found himself slow to react to Cin Drallig's parry, now furious as the battlemaster witnessed the death Gallia. Realizing that he was too late, Dooku took a quick step back, but not before yelling out in pain as Cin's green blade clipped his elbow, causing him to drop his weapon onto the ground. As Cin moved in for a killing blow, Padmé materialized instantly between the two, her two blades instantly forcing Drallig back and away from the wounded Jedi.

"You have turned Jedi against Jedi," he mouthed angrily at her, "and killed your last innocent victim. You will pay for your crimes, Sith!"

Padmé sneered. "Hypocrite...how close your anger brings you to the Dark Side you realize not, even on the brink."

Her words make an impact on her target, as Cin barely flinches physically even though she feels his mind stagger at her accusation. Pressing her attack, she continued.

"Don't give into your anger, Master Jedi. You may kill me yet, but it's not worth sacrificing your soul in the process. Strike true, but release your anger and your emotions into the Force."

"Shut it Sith," Cin yelled back at her, but she could feel his focus wavering as he struggled to do exactly as she had perversely suggested.

"Perhaps you can take a lesson from a Sith," Padmé suggested, a twinkle in her dark brown eyes. "Feel my balance, my center. If even a sith can fight without anger and hate, then it just may be possible for a Jedi."

"I said shut it," Cin screamed, his pitch higher. As he lunged towards the sith, swinging his saber in moves so intricate they appeared a complete blur to the untrained eye, he concentrated his focus on the young woman's pale neck, envisioning and willing the Force to allow his blade to strike true through that infernally smooth skin. Deflecting a parry of green blade, he switched his weapon imperceptibly from his right hand to his left, giving himself a clean window to cut the woman through from her chest to her neck as Saesee Tiin advanced on the sith just enough to divert her attention.

Realizing that Saesee's action was a sacrifice, as getting Padmé's attention took him away from his duel with Sifo-Dyas and opened up his back to him, Cin swung his left arm as hard as he could at the sith...and felt nothing but his blade fly through thin air. Seeing the blades of two Jedi coming at her, she jumped and contorted her body impossibly through the air, biting back her pain as she felt her hip singed by Tiin's saber. Seeing the shock on Cin's face as he realized his mistake, she reached for the Force as deeply as possible and rolled her body in the air to the left, her twin weapons a lethal windmill as one blade after another pierced the neck and then back of Drallig as she flipped herself back onto the ground. Crying out, blood spurting from his mouth, the last thing he saw was Saesee falling to the floor in pain while the boy, the one many a Jedi whispered to be the Chosen One lost to the order, continue to wear down Ki-Adi-Mundi, separating him from the rest of the group.

As Dooku picked himself off the floor and Sifo-Dyas strode forward to help Anakin, Padmé help one hand up.

"Stop," she whispered, watching as her husband's twin sabers continue to press down on the lone standing Jedi. "He's got this."

And indeed he did, for as his body spun and twirled as he pushed Ki-Adi-Mundi against a wall, Padmé realized that he was merely showing off now. While none could deny that the Cerulean was a vastly more experienced Jedi Master, his body was older and it was clear that the man had not engaged in any serious duels of late. The arrogance of the man, Padmé thought, to think he could take on the sith, though the group of five had indeed arrived on Takodana expecting to arrest a mostly defenseless group of politicians.

She felt from even a distance her husband's sheer power and grasp of the Force, and it took her breath away.

 _Nice work, Ani,_ she sent through their connection just as one of his blades cut off the Cerulean's saber wielding hand, giving him the opportunity to without a moment's hesitation plunge his two blades into Ki-Adi-Mundi's chest.  _You're gonna get it good tonight._

He turned back around, his face somber, mindful they both were to not gloat in front of the gathered politicians and the two Jedi, whose reactions they could not predict now that the dust had cleared. Sure, they had acted in their defense, helping the two Siths slaughter the Jedi, but Padmé did not get where she was by taking anything for granted. She studied the eyes of Dooku, who seemed unsure, and Sifo-Dyas, whose loyalties she could tell immediately.

Still holding her lightsabers, she deactivated them and surveyed the room as Anakin walked up to the wounded Saesee Tiin, wondering what to do with their new prisoner. "I realize this changes many things," she said, her political allies' eyes wide in shock at what had transpired. "But I assure you that every principle I have voiced in the past remains unchanged."

"I understand the Sith have always been the enemy of the Jedi," Mon Mothma started, having been the first to regain their composure.

Padmé nodded. "That was true for thousands of years, but the last of the Sith of old died on Naboo with Maul ten years ago. Anakin and I seek no enemy lest they wish harm on us or the galaxy."

"The creature Maul...," Dooku started, advancing rather threateningly on her.

"Had nothing to do with me," Padmé defended, knowing how much the death of his old Padawan Qui-Gon still weighed on the old man's mind. "My master trained myself and Maul in secret, separately, and I did not know of his existence until he revealed himself on Tatooine. Obi-Wan did the galaxy a great favor by ridding the galaxy of that creature, and my mourning of Qui-Gon Jinn was true. As I've said, I do not care for ancient grudges, and Master Jinn will always be revered in my heart as a Hero of Naboo."

"And he believed in me when few others besides Padmé did," Anakin added. "I won't forget that."

"Who was the master that trained you and Maul," Dooku continued, asking questions that had obviously weighed heavily on his mind since Qui-Gon's death, questions he had long suspected Amidala held the answers to.

"A nightmare. He would have been the scourge of the galaxy was he not dead by my hand before the Jedi..."

The warning in the Force came too late. With both of them distracted with appeasing Dooku and the others, the wounded and crippled Depa Billaba called upon the last of her reserves to cloak her intentions, and Padmé did not see her green lightsaber fly through the air aiming directly for her face until it was too late.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

She heard Anakin's scream but he was too far away to react in time. In the split second as she struggled to decide whether to try dodge or futilely bat the missile away, or look lovingly at her husband one last time, her world went black.

Padmé felt the rage build up in heart as her vision cleared and she glimpsed struggling form of Sifo-Dyas on the ground, groaning silently in pain, blood starting to stain the front of his robes by his chest. She rushed down to him, followed by Dooku, barely noticing Anakin lift with the Force the treacherous Jedi until the air.

"You murderer," he screamed, his fingers choking Depa as she hung suspended before all to see.

"The Sith will never triumph," she gasped out.

"You are nothing better than an assassin," he snarled in rage. "You killed no one but your own." Not bothering to continue choking her or hear any more insults, he made one motion with his fingers, snapping her neck. Letting her body drop to the ground, he rushed over to the small group gathered around the dying Jedi. His wife was already crying, her grief as real and tangible in the Force as the wound through Sifo-Dyas's chest.

"I'm so sorry," she cried, cradling the old Jedi's torso as he blinked, trying to get his bearings in his last moments. "This is my fault...you paid the price for my lies and..."

"Don't," Sifo-Dyas said, trying to comfort her even at the very end. "I served...I'm proud...I did...duty to galaxy."

"It didn't have to be this way," Anakin said, feeling the full brunt of emotions hit him. They had originally planned to use Sifo-Dyas, not expecting that both of them would become attached to someone who had become their most loyal bodyguard, and even friend. "We should not have continued lying to you..."

"It is done. You did what you had to do, as did I. Labels...don't matter anymore. Just actions..."

"Your death will be avenged," Padmé swore, her teeth gritting as she felt the Dark Side swirl around her.

"It is not necessary. I die...happy...surrounded by friends."

"My old friend," Dooku finally managed to find his voice. "My old friend," he kept repeating. Unable to bear the sight any longer, he buried his head in his hands and paced the room.

With his last tendrils of energy, Sifo-Dyas lifted his hand, beckoning the two siths to lean closer. When he spoke, his whisper was barely audible.

"When...first met...I had...vision...Queen...ruling over all...ruthless justice...and vengeance...galaxy..." He sighed, his chest convulsing. "Reign, Amidala...in my memory...reign."

His last words complete, they felt the last streams of life wither away from the old Jedi, and Dooku, now across the room, appeared to almost whine in a high pitched cry. Never able to forget her station and her duty, Padmé stood, again surveying the faces along side the negotiating table. Bail Organa was the first to stand, walking nervously over to her. Sensing permission, he gently tapped Padmé on her shoulder, offering comfort, then withdrawing.

"I'm sorry. I believe...none would disagree here upon Master Sifo-Dyas's honor and his devotion to his duty."

"Thank you, Bail." Gathering her emotions, knowing her eyes were still red from her tears, she spoke, just as much in command of the room before the Jedi attack. "I ask kindly the delegation for a temporary suspension of talks. I know many of you have questions for me, and they will be answered in time. For now, I wish to just mourn a friend."

* * *

Even the greatest living sith lord in the galaxy needs comforting sometimes, and Padmé unabashedly allowed her body to sink into the frame of her husband as the flames consumed the remains of Jedi Master and former High Councilor Sifo-Dyas. She felt the contours of her husband alongside her her back, his body more muscular and less wiry than before, his hold on her more confident, reassuring...in a word, manlier than she had ever remembered. And she had never needed him more. She gripped his hands, skin still youthful and smooth despite their deadly acts earlier in the day, squeezing them as if her life depended on it.

"Stay with me, Ani."

"Always, angel."

"I can't lose you. Not now. Not ever."

"I'm yours, forever."

The light of the flames barely eclipsed the incredible array of stars sitting above them on the night sky, illuminating the small group stood huddling atop the grassy knoll overlooking a small, swampy lake, the ever present sound of waterfalls and cascades gracing their ears even at night. The proprietor of the castle, one Maz Kanata, had been friends with Sifo-Dyas and suggested for his memorial a place which the late Jedi Master treasured in life. To the edge of their group stood Dooku, who had barely said a word since his friend's death. Padmé understood, the last ten years have been a rough decade for the Jedi, who had lost first his old Padawan, then his trust and faith in the Jedi Council, and now his closest remaining friend within the Order. She would give him his space, but realized that she had little control over Dooku's actions now that his anchor was gone. The rest of the delegation stood behind her in mourning as well, respectful of the unique relationship she and her husband had had with the man.

As the flames billowed, she felt the presence of the Duchess approached her. Padmé respected Satine more than most, sensing that the Mandalorian ruler may have well been the woman she would have grown to be had her life not been tainted by war and the Dark Side. The older blonde woman stood boldly next to the sith couple, respectfully maintaining her distance.

"My security has identified Prince Merrik was the leak. Consular Organa's security confirmed this. He resisted our questioning at first, but when presented with incontrovertible proof of his traitorous communications with the Republic, as well as the new deposits into his accounts, he has made a full confession."

"Thank you, Satine," Padmé finally said after a long silence, her eyes never leaving the flames.

"This tragedy is my fault, that I did not properly vet my people. The Alliance came to Takodana in good faith in accordance to the conditions set by myself, and lost one of your own because of your trust in me. More, likely, were it not for your...abilities."

Painfully, Padmé left her husband's embrace, sidling next to the Duchess. She placed her arm around the older woman. "Thank you, though the fault is not entirely yours. I should have known better...sensed more."

"If you wish," Satine said reluctantly, "I will turn the Prince over to your custody."

"It would please us," Padmé said simply.

"Will he," Satine ventured carefully, "succumb to his injuries like the Jedi prisoner, Saesee Tiin?"

Padmé reached with her right hand to grip her husband's. "He will answer for the consequences of his crimes," she said coldly.

Satine sighed sadly. It was clear that she was not at all comfortable with whatever Padmé planned to put her former adviser through. "Normally I would protest...but here, I have lost the high ground." They stared at the flames for what seemed like another lifetime, each buried within their own thoughts. "I will sign," the Duchess finally said. "Mandalore will stand as one with the Alliance...and openly before the Republic."

Padmé's grip on Satine's arm tightened. "Don't. Don't sign this treaty out of guilt, or any sense of obligation. You will come to regret..."

"No," Satine said firmly. "Turning over the Prince is my restitution. I sigh this treaty out of principle and for the good of my people." She stepped forward, closer to the flames, and Padmé feared for a moment the poor woman may allow herself to be consumed by them altogether.

"I know little of the Sith," Satine started again after another pause, "besides what I remember from the classes of my youth. And I have always held the highest regard for the Jedi, having known one well very early in my life. They are noble...loyal...selfless..."

What a small world, Padmé thought, that the Jedi she was thinking of was one Obi-Wan Kenobi, the unspoken link between the two. Rather than interrupt, she let the Duchess continue.

"What I witnessed today bears little resemblance to the Jedi Order I know, for five Jedi Masters, four members of their high Council, to attack what they believed to be an unarmed diplomatic conference meeting under the auspices of peace...with information obtained from outright bribery by the Trade Federation."

She turned her grey blue eyes at Padmé, their souls joined in the moment as they cemented their alliance.

"I will sign, because I no longer trust in the safety of Mandalore from the Republic and the Jedi Order. I understand that the attack today does not represent the Jedi as a whole...that many within the Order would condemn it outright...but while Nute Gunray and the Trade Federation continue to hold the reins of power and retain the ability to persuade at least some within the Order to act on their behalf, I cannot trust that my people will remain safe from aggression."

Padmé gulped. She had gotten what she wanted on Takodana, but did it have to come with such a sacrifice, both to her conscience and to the people she cared about? Sensing her distress, she felt a reassuring squeeze of her hand from Anakin.

"I will inform my fellow Consulars to commence drafts of our agreement. But not tonight. Tonight, we mourn, we reflect, and we give thanks to what we still have not yet lost."


	6. Chapter 6

_"Senator Amidala is a Sith Lord! Disturbing reports from the Outer Rim planet of Takodana yesterday, where a rogue Jedi team allegedly sent to apprehend the leaders of the Alliance to Restore the True Republic ran afoul of a secret peace conference involving the Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore. As the arrest escalated into violence, violence resulting in the passing of all the Jedi Masters who embarked on the mission, it was revealed that the former Senator, as well as her teenage husband Anakin Skywalker, now serving as a General for the Alliance who led the recent liberation of Sern Prime from the Republic's Trade Federation army, are trained in the dark arts of the Sith order, long thought extinct despite a brief resurgence ten years ago. We switch now to a statement from Consular Amidala herself, shown here speaking besides her co-Consulars Bail Organa and Mon Mothma, both of whom have reaffirmed their support for the Consular._

_'The five Jedi who chose to act on behalf of Chancellor Gunray and the Trade Federation found assassination and war to be a better path than democracy and diplomacy. In their attempt to threaten and coerce a peaceful gathering, the lives of my compatriots and those who agreed to meet with us took precedence over the continued secrecy of our training. Now, the galaxy deserves to hear the truth._

_For thousands of years, the Sith Order has stood as the ancient enemy of the Jedi Order and the Republic of Ruusan...and deservedly so. I cannot come close to condoning the actions of my predecessors, much less the havoc and atrocities they have committed in millennia past. Like many, however, I had little knowledge of the order's history when, at the age of twelve, my latent abilities in the Force led one whom I always trusted as a mentor to train me in the ways of the Sith. In the following years, I had no choice but to continue, under the constant threat of death, or much worse._

_The Sith Order sought to take advantage of the circumstances surrounding the blockade of Naboo to take power. It was in the subsequent chaos that I saw the opportunity to rid permanently the scourge of the galaxy, one that had infiltrated the very heart of the Republic and threatened to destroy it from within. With the help of the Jedi, who stood alongside our crusade for Naboo, slaying a villain who was also trained by my master without my knowledge, I found myself the last remaining sith in existence, and I swore to change the very meaning of the order from a Force for evil, to a crusade for democracy, freedom, and justice, for the opportunity of each and every sentient being in this galaxy to make what they would of their own existence._

_Most of you watching this have already made your minds on myself. Others have already made up their minds on the Sith order. For those who do still retain an open mind, I ask you not to judge my husband and I by our labels, but by our actions. What troubles the galaxy today is not ancient theologies and supernatural forces, but the very ordinary threat of everyday greed, avarice, and corruption writ large.'_

_In light of Amidala's revelation, Chancellor Nute Gunray has issued his strong...words...ahem...I guess some of them do indeed qualify as actual words...but regrettably we will not play his speech on this broadcast because...frankly...kids are watching. Instead, we turn to Jedi Master Mace Windu, who has issued this statement on behalf of the Order._

_'Many aspects of the events from the last two standard days are deeply disturbing and weigh heavily upon the shoulders of the High Council. We cannot condone the actions of Masters Ki-Adi-Mundi and those who accompanied him to Takodana, seeing as their mission was taken without the consent or knowledge of the Council. Violence is never the first option of a Jedi, and while we sympathize with their belief and service to the Republic, we warn against such impulsive actions taken on behalf of our Order in the future._

_The Sith Order is one steeped in lies, cruelty, slavery, and death. Consular Amidala has acknowledged this fact on a surface level, but while her words are encouraging, because of that very history and the undeniably vile nature of the Dark Side of the Force, the Jedi Order cannot fully trust her disavow of evil, just because she says so. However, given the current political implications, it would be impractical for the Order to act upon the Sith as per our history, especially seeing that several current Council members, as well as some of the galaxy's more reputable politicians, have reaffirmed their support of Amidala and Skywalker's cause, if not all of their affiliations._

_Alternatively, the Order welcomes an open dialogue with the Consular and the Alliance any place, any time, on their terms, even if it must occur outside the purview of the Republic. The Order recognizes the current state of chaos and instability within the Republic, and we are dedicated, as we trust the Consulars of the Alliance are, the repair our fractured state. But hear us clearly: the Jedi will not and never stand for the abominations and horrors of Sith past, and to Consular Amidala and General Skywalker I say this: you claim to stand for justice. Know clearly that the Jedi Order is watching, and for any crimes you commit in the name of the Dark Side, justice will be harsh, swift, and unyielding.'"_

"Oh wow," Sola deadpanned very unconvincingly as her parents stared at the holo in abject horror, "what a surprise. What a shock. My little sister. A Sith Lord. I can't believe it. What does everyone want for dinner. Who wants to pick up Pooja from dance class tonight."

Ruwee and Jobal Naberrie switched their horrified gazes from the holo to their eldest daughter.

"...you knew?!"

"...how long have you known this?!"

Sola simply shrugged her head and went back to browsing her comm. "Sisters share secrets," she said, not looking up from a new recipe for spiced shaak she was interested in cooking that night.

"My poor little daughter," Jobal moaned.

"It must have been that womprat Palpatine," Ruwee surmised, "I never cared for that man...his interest in Padmé always seemed disturbing."

"At least you know Padmé wasn't kidding when she told us not to worry about her safety," Sola said, trying to reassure her parents on this most unexpected turn of events. "And I'm sure she's got us well taken care of too."

"I feel bad for the boy," Ruwee said, realizing the extent of his younger daughter's relationship with her husband. "If the Sith took advantage of Padmé's youth and naivete, it cannot be denied that Padmé did the same to Anakin. The poor boy had no chance."

"Trust me," Sola said, wondering if it was too late for to ask Teckla to pick up some pickled chives on her way to the house, "Anakin's the last to complain."

"That poor boy." Ruwee's repeated. Then, his eyes narrowing, he scrutinized carefully his oldest daughter. "Since you seem to know so much more about our family than me...exactly how early did they  _really_  begin their...um...relationship."

Sola shrugged again. "Sisters keep secrets."

* * *

"Ani's a sith?" Beru chewed her grain bar nonchalantly as they watched the news from their small mansion on the edge of Naboo's Western Plains. "That's kind of...wizard."

Seeing his stepmother stewing over what she had just learned about her son on the holonets, Owen tried to make her feel better. "You always wanted Anakin to be a Jedi. I guess he's kinda a Jedi now? I mean, yeah, blood enemies with them and all...but you know...he's powerful."

"They did free a lot of slaves," Cliegg said, setting his rugged and calloused arm around his wife's back. Shmi had yet to speak since the newscaster broke the news though her eyes never left the holo, and Cliegg was getting a bit worried about his wife. "I mean, if you think about it...I bet they were responsible for that raid on Jabba's palace a few years back."

"She lied to me," Shmi said quietly, her tone not betraying her true thoughts. "They both lied to me."

"Sounds like they had to keep this a secret from everyone," Owen said.

"This changes things," Cliegg started, unsure of what to say, "but...it shouldn't change things that much?"

The entire family sat, waiting for Shmi to comment further. Finally, having seemingly come to a decision on the matter in her mind, she spoke.

"I still trust Padmé. I shouldn't, but I do. She has a good heart, and so does Anakin. None of that's changed. But she took advantage of my son, that is undeniable. I don't care if she's Queen again or Empress or whatever next time I see her, her majesty and I are going to have a loonnng talk..."

* * *

Senators Tub'r Fafi and Mas Amedda found the Chancellor's office seemingly empty, but Amedda, whose Chagrian senses were better, twitched his tentacles towards the desk.

"Chancellor Gunray," Fafi said, "we know you're in here. Please come out from under your desk."

"Amidala is a sith," Gunray said, emerging from his hiding spot but still visibly cowering. "She will kill me, I know it. She will torture me. I call her hair ugly!"

"Frankly Chancellor, you've done a lot worse than that, and you're still alive."

"And I was right," Gunray screamed, suddenly finding his courage or whatever derangement acted in its place. "She is devil and I was only one to see! That's why I'm Chancellor. That's why I so better superior in galaxy! She will die die die die die and everyone will celebrate Gunray to all!"

Fafi and Amedda reached their seats before the Chancellor's desk, sitting down and neither showing any reactions to the Chancellor's somewhat bipolar-ish ravings. Looking at Amedda, who gave him the okay to start their presentation, Fafi began, careful to not personally avow any involvement in Gunray's many assassination attempts. "Look, no one is killing anyone for the moment. Clearly your attempts to, ahem, end Amidala's career prematurely have not succeeded because she is a Sith..."

"Because you are all vile traitors betray me how dare you lowest low..."

"And I have no doubt that Amidala can have you dead in a moment's notice because of her powers, but has chosen not to do so. With all regard, Chancellor..."

"Your majesty," Gunray demanded imperiously.

"...ahem, your majesty, but the only reason you are still alive is because Amidala wills it so."

The air seemed to deflate from the Supreme Chancellor's chest as the truth of Fafi's words hit him. "So what can we do? I must flee. Gather all the Republic treasury and credits, I will escape with it all to..."

"May I suggest another route," Amedda started.

"State it you dirty dirty shit swallower," Gunray ordered angrily. "If it stupid, you die! I kill you."

"Let's examine Amidala's motives," the Chagrian continued. "Amidala clearly set you up as her opponent because she believed you to be a pushover. Her plot failed, but I'm sure the moment the vote was announced she was wishing death upon you."

"But considering that the truth of her Sith nature would have emerged sooner or later," Fafi continued, "she was afraid of acting immediately, because killing you would clearly be seen as, well sour grapes, coming from a sith."

"So she incites rebellion. Because she could not beat you fair and square, she splits the Republic to undermine our positions."

"My position," Gunray protested. "Only mine Fafi you fat whore! No one else's, mine mine minus!"

"The key thing to note though," Fafi continued, ignoring yet another outburst from the Chancellor, "is that this revelation leaves her weaker than before."

"How so," Gunray asked, suddenly intrigued now by his adviser's theory.

"Again, she cannot act as she truly would wish to because she operates from a position of weakness. Before the revelation, she had the unquestioning support of her co-Consulars as well as parts of the Jedi, including several High Council members."

"Those disgusting shitpoo smearing traitors," Gunray began.

"In what I have learned about the sith," Mas continued, "it is rare that support will continue for long. Amidala chose ultimately the wrong allies, and her very nature will eventually turn them against her."

"When," Gunray asked, his head suddenly perking up as if he were a five year old child on Life Day. "Can this be done by tonight? I have an orgy to attend tonight..."

"We  _all_  have orgies to attend tonight, Chanc...your majesty," Fafi responded impatiently. "We need to buy significant time for the inevitable to happen. We press the attack, find soft targets for the Droid Army such as Corellia or Mon Calamari, keeping the Alliance off balance and away from a concentrated attack on Coruscant."

"I have made contact with certain parties on Zygerria and Nal Hutta," Mas said. "The Hutts and the Zygerrians are among the most threatened by Amidala's anti-slavery crusade, and have indicated that they are willing to receive our assistance in preserving their freedom and way of life."

"This is...promising," Gunray said.

"There is one other thing," Mas started nervously.

"The Jedi and Amidala's fellow Consulars are just as unlikely to work with you..."

"Because they are evil! Evil! Evil! Evil, and I am so good and godly! They are jealous of my God penis!"

"Nevertheless," Fafi said, "it may prove to our advantage were we to spread some rumors...completely untrue of course, of what would be considered by the masses as palace intrigue."

Gunray was confused. "You want to tell the holonets I'm intriguingly handsome? I tell them every damn day!"

"No," Amedda said. "Let them think a coup is in the works, that you have lost our trust, that the Senate is prepared to vote on a motion of no confidence. Senator Fafi and I can both leak stories from our offices saying that there is a belief that any day now, one of us may well take over the office of Supreme Chancellor."

"Never! I rule alone forever!"

"It's a ruse, your majesty," Fafi said, trying to comfort the Neimoidian. "We lure both the Alliance and the Jedi into thinking a friendlier, more conciliatory regime may be imminent any moment."

"Peace overtures will be sent in secret. Senators like Organa and the Jedi would want to negotiate. The sith will not. This will start a wedge between Amidala and her core supporters, one we can take advantage of."

"It's our only chance," Fafi affirmed, ending their proposal. They both watched nervously as the Supreme Chancellor meditated on their words. "It's a long shot, but it just may work."

"The God king emperor approves," Gunray finally concluded, standing and rising to his full height with his swagger fully restored. He loomed over the desk menacingly and pointed at his two chief lieutenants, his finger shaking in anger. "But don't you dare betray me, Fafi. Don't you even think about it. Because I will fuck your corspe, Fafi! I will fuck your corspe, Fafi! All the Gods help me, I will kill you and piss all over your leg and lick all that piss back up and I will fuck...your...corspe FAFI!"

The Senator from Kuat nodded his head, not in the least perturbed by the Supreme Chancellor's vile diatribe, though there was one piece of that that seemed uncomfortably sexy, and Fafi made a mental note to try it out with one of the hookers later that night. Disturbingly, he noticed that the Supreme Chancellor now sported a raging hard on under his robes, and prayed for the first time in decades that it was incidental and had nothing to do with himself.

"I understand, your majesty," he agreed. "You will fuck my corpse if I betray you."  _Unsuccessfully_ , he added in his head.

* * *

She held him. Usually he held her, their bodies always a perfect fit when Anakin cradled his wife in his arms in their sleep every night, but on this day, she needed to hold on to him, like the old times. Anakin felt his wife's small nose against his shoulder, her mouth nuzzling his back, and shuddered. He loved and missed being held like this, and would enjoy it more if it weren't for his wife's anguish, felt plainly through the Force.

"We should probably get up," he said, caressing his wife's fingers, wrapped tightly around his chest and abdomen. "The Jedi will be waiting."

"I don't want to," he heard Padmé grumble behind him almost childishly. "Let them wait."

"How are you doing," Anakin asked. "I can ask Ellé to tell the Jedi to postpone the meeting. Obi-Wan won't be happy, but..."

"Fuck Obi-Wan," Padmé spat. "Fuck the Jedi, fuck the meeting, fuck everything."

Holding her hands closer to him, he waited patiently for this wife to continue. After a few minutes, he felt her sobbing quietly as she buried her face in the back of his neck.

"Is this worth it," her soft voice asked finally as he sensed that she was starting to regain her composure. "Is any of this worth it? For Sifo-Dyas's life? For all the lives that have been killed...torn apart in this war. And everyone else that has to die at our altar?"

"We've kept the war at a minimum," Anakin said. She was wavering, but he knew it would pass in time. This entire endeavor was her brainchild, her life's work and legacy, and she would not give up on it. And he would not let her, unless he truly believed she had forsworn it for good. "Casualties are light, including for the clones. We've always believed that the galaxy was at a breaking point...this clone war allows us to relieve the pressures of a dying Republic with the least amount of death and suffering."

"I know, but...," Padmé swallowed, trying to control her emotions as she worked out the conflict in her head, "we're the ones causing the suffering. Not Sidious. Not Gunray, or any of their minions...but  _us_. We're the villains. I've always understood that on some level, but to actually do it..."

"Then it's our burden," Anakin said firmly. "Sidious is dead. We have no control over what Nute Gunray does. There will always be villains, but that's why we exist...because this will be the last war, the war will end all wars. Sifo-Dyas is dead. You were closer to him, but it pains me too...he was a good man, and he would have stood with us to the end. Sifo-Dyas saw the same vision we did...let's not let his death be in vain."

Anakin waited, for once unsure how Padmé would respond to his words. He was treading on new ground, he knew. Padmé had always led the way, taking the initiative as they weaved their path to their destiny, and she had never been the one unsure of herself, or their mission. Turbulent emotions continued to seep out of his wife, as well as a sense confusion he had never felt from her through his bond. Whatever she decided, he would follow...but where did it leave him, both of them, if they were to walk away at this late point?

Suddenly, a shift in the Force, and Anakin sensed that his wife had mastered her emotions, her resolving strengthening in its focus, her grip on his body tighten.

"You're right, Anakin. You are wise. Shiraya help us, we've forded the Melting Waters, crossed the Plains of Gunga, there is no turning back now. We will finish the job, and we will meet our destiny. Together."

* * *

The two hooded figures approached the entrance of Varykino in silence. As they passed several small handmaidens along the estate grounds, standing impassively but clearly attentively to the extreme through the Force, Quinlan Vos lowered his hood and looked over to his friend and fellow knight.

"Ready," he asked in a low voice.

"Do we have choice," Obi-Wan asked back, lowering his hood as well.

"Several, in fact. There are always alternatives."

"Nevertheless, the die is set," Obi-Wan said, and Quinlan sensed that he would brook no more unnecessary hesitation in their mission. "Let's do this."


	7. Chapter 7

"Lay down your weapons Jedi," Darth Mirayya ordered as both her guests entered the dining parlor with lightsabers lit and held vertically, in an almost ceremonious manner in front of their faces. "Do you really believe they will help you against us?"

"Clearly the new Sith order is skilled with the saber," Obi-Wan said, though he obediently deactivated his blue blade, followed by Quinlan, "but nevertheless, I would believe we stand a fighting chance."

"Believe what you want, but it's only polite to clarify for us, Jedi: are you here to fight? Or to treat and speak civilly, as your message indicated?" She floated two goblets of wine,  _Amidala's Vintage_  of course, towards the two Jedi on the other side of the table. "We all know how well the aggression option worked out for Master Ki-Adi-Mundi. But if you are truly here for a peaceful, civil discussion then we welcome you to whatever refreshments you may require."

The two Jedi approached the table cautiously, both taking a seat. Quinlan Vos took immediately his glass, taking a healthy sip, while Obi-Wan ignored his at first.

"Was Senator Palpatine your Sith master," Obi-Wan addressed Padmé directly. "I figure it was either the Senator, or Chancellor Valorum, but seeing how Palpatine comes from here on Naboo, it would have given him ample time to train you."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Padmé's face. "You must understand that I cannot reveal to you all the secrets of the Sith all at once...but I will say, Master Kenobi, that you do credit to your sterling and well-deserved reputation."

Obi-Wan returned her smile. "To think then, that I was present at the destruction of two Siths."

"But only responsible for one, and believe me, the notch on my belt was infinitely more formidable than that creature you did away with in Theed."

"What about Chancellor Valorum then? An innocent bystander killed alongside the Sith master, were my hypothesis accurate?"

"A fair trade, do you think not?"

"The Jedi value the lives of every sentient," Quinlan said, "milady."

"So the Jedi would save one life at the expense of trillions. Ani, do you remember Master Kenobi teaching you this aspect of the Code when you were a child?"

"Did Ki-Adi-Mundi value the lives of the innocent diplomats he endangered on Takodana," Anakin spoke, further countering the Kiffar Jedi.

"I'll concede the latter," Obi-Wan said, taking his first sip of wine. "That unfortunate raid has certainly chipped away at some of our moral high ground."

"We move on," Padmé said firmly. "There is little more to be gained with what I'm sure would be a very compelling philosophical debate, so let's not waste time. I do not relish the idea of meeting behind close doors, away from my co-Consulars. However, it is my hope an understanding here will ultimately stand beneficial to the galaxy as a whole...so long as an understanding is reached."

"It is really is a compelling story, isn't it," Obi-Wan said, taking another sip of his wine. "Young girl taken advantage of by an older mentor, unwillingly trained into the dark arts, finally sees an opportunity to free herself and does so, incidentally saving the galaxy in the process. It's all very convenient, like something out of an Alderaanian fairy tale."

"You say story, I say truth," Padmé maintained. "And believe me,  _nothing_  relating to my training under Darth Sidious was  _convenient_  by any means."

"And for that, I'm so sorry, I really am. No one deserves that, especially at such a young age."

"Had you been discovered by the Jedi," Quinlan added, "you could have been saved from such a cruel fate."

"Had I been discovered been the Jedi," Padmé countered, setting her hand on Anakin's, "I may not have met and married the love of my life." Though she wondered on that one, for there were clearly forces greater than the Jedi. She turned her gaze back to the Jedi, her eyes cruel. "And even if we found happiness regardless of your damn Code...it would have been quite short-lived."

"What are you saying," Obi-Wan asked, sensing the warning behind her words. "What was your Darth Sidious planning?"

"The complete and utter annihilation of the Jedi," Anakin said coldly.

"How is that possible?" Obi-Wan looked over at Quinlan. "Could it be..."

"The weapon from Geonosis," Quinlan suggested darkly. "The one Senator Organa supposedly dreamed about?"

"Hardly," Padmé scoffed. "The Death Star would have been an abomination, don't get me wrong, but what Sidious planned was more subtle and much more complete than something that can only handle  _one_  planet at a time."

"It would have been right under your noses, it would have been instantaneous, and none would have been aware of what was happening until it was it was too late," Anakin summarized.

The two Jedi could not help but react and look at each other apprehensively. It was Quinlan who spoke after this startling revelation, "I presume you are not going to tell us how he could have accomplished this?"

"No," Padmé said, "but suffice to say, it will not be happening. We have no intentions towards genocide, and we have disabled the means with which Sidious planned to achieve his ends."

"Oh good," Obi-Wan said, sarcasm creeping into his voice. "Quinlan, did you hear that? Her majesty does not intend to commit mass murder."

"I understand," Padmé said calmly, though her lips were as thin as her patience. "When faced with the weaknesses and failures of one's entire life's work and meaning, barbed comments serve as a much easier coping mechanism compared to something such as, say...true introspection."

"I apologize for any disrespect, milady," Obi-Wan acknowledged. "Far-fetched as your claims may be, I and the Jedi Order do owe you the benefit of the doubt."

"Yes, we had to drag your precious benefit of the doubt out of you tooth and nail, kicking and screaming, didn't we?" Her teeth grit against each other as she forced herself to continue smiling at her counterparts. "You would clearly prefer unrequited violence as your approach, your salvation resting with a lack of passion in your hearts whilst you commit acts of murder. We speak civilly now, but only because somehow, even your High Council miraculously recognizes the disadvantage of your order's current position. One which, I'm sure, many of your Order believe to be of temporary status."

"Yes," Quinlan came in to his friend's defense, "we are disadvantaged right now, aren't we? Because of your doing, because you put Nute Gunray in power and the galaxy is endangered daily because of your devising."

"Strong accusations," Anakin argued. Free to let his shielding down now that the truth now stood revealed, he let loose the full strength of his power emanate out from his body towards the two Jedi, watching carefully the reactions both Jedi tried to conceal as they felt for the first time just how truly powerful their Chosen One could be. Were they to make an enemy of him, of course. "As far as I know, every member of the Senate voted in the last election of their own accord. As far as my wife tried to influence the election, she did so putting every effort and fiber of her being not to elevate herself, but moreso to prevent a Chancellor Gunray that she was ultimately powerless to stop."

Obi-Wan scoffed. "Powerless? Are you to tell me the Sith would not resort to dirty tricks in order to secure power?"

"Would you have encouraged me to cheat, Master Jedi?"

"Why not," Quinlan challenged. "You have been lying to us every moment since Cato Neimoidia...to think, we were relying on your help to catch the Sith. Clearly that could have never happened, could it?"

"What did you expect us to do," Anakin asked. "Admit our true heritage to you and stand lamely while you run us through?"

"You led us on a wild bantha chase...," Obi-Wan started.

"I formulated a plan to obtain the incriminating evidence the Trade Federation gathered on the Senate and once accomplished, duly handed it over to the Jedi," Padmé asserted triumphantly. That was not something either Jedi could deny.

Quinlan Vos responded, almost yelling his accusation now. "You used it to lure Trade Federation to assassinate you so as to elevate your own status just in time for the election for a new Chancellor."

Padmé laughed. "So let me spell out what you are accusing me of, Jedi. You accuse me of trying to manipulate and cause my own assassination while knowing it would fail. For what purpose? Well, you then accuse me of somehow manipulating Senators Fafi and even Clovis, my own ally, into betraying me and trying to kill me...again, somehow with the foreknowledge that even Chancellor Antilles would be complicit in the planning."

"Not impossible," Quinlan pressed. "Chancellor Antilles  _was_  implicated in the extortion footage, after all. Your press conference was too much of a temptation for him to save his own career."

"So rather than release the footage to the public, which would have caused both Antilles to resign and made me the most popular politician in the galaxy, I do my best to keep it from the Trade Federation, the corrupt senators, the public, ultimately, I repeat, handing it over to the Jedi for safekeeping for the good of the Republic and knowing that afterwards, this footage, so politically helpful to my own career and not to mention the immediate election at hand, would be hidden from the galaxy forever. By Shiraya, Gods forbid if I ever acted in my own interest for once...not only would I be Chancellor by now, but probably an Empress and perchance even a goddess!" Padmé pounded the table, feigning actual regret as she continued to maintain her innocence in front of Obi-Wan and Quinlan.

"Play the selfless saint card all you want Amidala," Obi-Wan grumbled. "You still used us as bait for the Trade Federation  _and_  Fafi and Antilles."

"That was self-preservation," Anakin said stonily. "You were all so set on finding your evil Sith lords...we had to do something to throw you off our scent."

"Coincidentally, you just happened to name all whom the Jedi serve even today," Padmé remarked. "Fafi, the Trade Federation, and all the other complicit Senators who tried to kill two vaunted members of your own order."

"Whose fault is that?" Obi-Wan waved his hand dismissively at Padmé, who was about to speak. "Oh please, don't tell me you had absolutely nothing to do with this...debasement of the Republic. And isn't it just so convenient that when the Republic is in need of saving, Darth...oh whatever, Senator Amidala is there to lead the resistance?"

"I know nothing of your base accusations," Padmé protested evenly. "I will repeat again that I have no control over the actions of the Trade Federation, or the slight majority of Senators who, despite hours of personal pleading, have and now continue to ever fervently support Chancellor Gunray." She allowed a light smile to grace her face. "Although...it is a good thing, is it not?"

"How can you justify such words Consular," Quinlan asked, his eyes narrowing. "Never has the Republic been lower in act, in deed, and in the eyes of its citizens."

"Yes, all that is unfortunate," Padmé replied softly, "but let's not give Nute Gunray that much credit, shall we?"

"What do you mean," Obi-Wan asked.

"Your esteemed Chancellor did not invent the rot that plagues the Republic, it has long existed before his elevation to power. Now, the flaws of those who purport to represent and lead this galaxy have been laid bare for all to see, rather than lie hidden and concealed and allowed to continue to fester under the cover of darkness." She took a triumphant sip of wine. "There is a saying on Naboo, after all: light, is the best disinfectant. Now that we know the enemy, we can eradicate it."

The two Jedi turned to look at each other, exchanging an indecipherable gaze between each other, before returning their attentions to the sith couple.

"Odd proverb for a Sith to cite," Obi-Wan said, "but very well...I believe that is as much of a confession as we'll ever receive from you."

Padmé shrugged. "Believe what you will, master Jedi."

"What is it you intend then," Quinlan asked. "Surely it's not just the liberation and restoration of the Republic."

"No," Anakin said with quiet thunder. "Certainly not a restoration of the Republic as it was: one that allowed corruption, slavery, and all sorts of illicit trades and crimes to flow freely."

"We, alongside my co-Consulars and all the Senators and sovereigns of the Alliance work towards a better Republic, one that has learned from past failures, a dynamic engine capable of constant renewal to respond to the growing challenges of each new day."

"Yes," Obi-Wan sighed, "we've all seen your official statements and propaganda, but if you insist that is the extent of your political aims...well I suppose there's little we can do to trick you into admitting to any further motives, whether or not they exist."

"A presumption of guilt ," Padmé cooed. "It appears the Jedi sense of justice has already seen itself influenced by our current Chancellor."

"It is a simple matter of history and the very nature of the Dark Side," Obi-Wan responded, not backing down. "What are your intentions for the Jedi then, if you claim to not advocate for our genocide? Is it conversion you intend? A slow slide towards corruption and influence such as you are attempting now?"

The younger sith scoffed. "Obi-Wan, that is preposterous. Clearly there is no future with the Sith order for either one of you. What are we supposed to call you two? Darth Angry Hair? Darth Fluffy or Scruffy?"

"Darth Say-Something-Flippant-or-Ironic-in-an-Uncomfortable-or-Awkward-Situation-to-Remain-Constantly-Emotionally-Unattached-from-the-Situation-and-all-those-Present," Padmé added, smirking.

Obi-Wan returned her humor, pointing his finger at the Consular. "Point to the sith, I suppose."

"We wish for peace," Amidala said in a more official tone. "Peace between the Jedi and the Sith...is that truly so beyond the reach of your imaginations? After not, do you not already seeing it happening, as more and more Jedi choose to come to the assistance of the Alliance?"

"I cannot deny the current situation, but a true, lasting peace will require mutual trust between our two orders."

Padmé reached out her hand. "Then let us renew our trust, masters Jedi. I know we have lied to you in the past, for reasons I will not apologize for. Now, let us move forward towards a better future for our orders and the galaxy we share."

* * *

"Do you think they bought it," Quinlan asked later as they sat in their quarters, after both had once again scanned their room vigorously for bugs or any other listening devices. "Did we put up enough of a fight?"

"I think we appeared genuine because we were," Obi-Wan replied thoughtfully. "Our questions, our doubts, our skepticism...there was no acting there." Though there were some subjects that Obi-Wan knew he avoided and did not press, for once voiced there would be no room for compromise.

Few knew of their actual mission here. Yoda, possibly. They had approached Mace Windu after yet another Council debate regarding the meaning of the Sith's reemergence to suggest the plan. Obi-Wan presumed that Mace had confided in those he trusted the most. He had to credit the Korun master for handling the situation remarkably well, especially considering the fact that his own former Padawan had been one of the Jedi killed on Takodana. It seemed almost too easy for Yoda and the other masters to flee to Dagobah, while Master Windu had to deal with the actual repercussions of the revelation and the war.

"Are you nervous?"

Obi-Wan walked over to the balcony, where in the evening light he could see the walls of Varykino across the lake from their guest villa. He took a sip of wine, the Sith Consul having provided them ample bottles of her own product.

"I have faced much worse Sith than these two...children, play-acting as the real thing."

"Yet they took down this Darth Sidious," Quinlan said. "I have a feeling he would have been unlike anything we have ever encountered, especially judging from the designs for that death star weapon."

"If our suspicions are correct, and Sidious was Senator Palpatine, then it seemed more...an accident...a mere fluke."

"Yes, a fluke," Quinlan said soberly. "One that was not felt by the two Jedi onboard the ship, nor the experienced sith master who they claim was on the brink of destroying the entire Jedi Order..."

"Do you believe that? What they said about the plans of Sidious?"

"I do," Quinlan said. "I felt nothing but pure truth."

"I did too." Obi-Wan mulled the room thoughtfully. "For them to have killed Sidious, like you said, undetected, would have required significant shielding techniques. And the boy's raw power...I suppose you're right. We would do well not to underestimate them."

"I do not fear Amidala or her boy," Quinlan said, his face inscrutable. "I'm no killer, but I am a trained warrior. I will fight, if necessary. If I win, so be it. If I die, I join the Force. I do not fear death."

"I do not accuse you of fear," Obi-Wan said, sitting next to Quinlan on the balcony. "But I feel some...unrest in you."

"What if this mission is more...complicated than when we first drew it out?"

The mission was simple, Obi-Wan thought. Infiltrate the Sith. Avoid the temptations of the Dark Side. Gauge and discover their true intentions. If they were truly benevolent, inform the Council. But if Amidala and Skywalker presented any threat to the Jedi Order and the Republic, inform the Council...then destroy the sith. And who better to carry out the mission besides Obi-Wan, who knew the couple personally better than any Jedi who still actively reported to Coruscant, and Quinlan, whose entire career consisted of deep-cover missions.

"I suppose to truly get them to confide in us..."

"Yes, there's that," Quinlan said. He gulped, and would have floated over his own glass of wine had he not wanted to avoid his friend's friendly reproach for such flippant use of the Force. "But what if we accomplish that part of the mission...and find our answers meriting more than just a binary choice?"

"We shall have to trust in the Force, old friend, and keep an open mind to its tidings."

* * *

"Can we trust them?"

"You want to, don't you?"

Anakin looked down at the floor, almost shamefully. "I know. It's too good to be true, no matter how much I want to believe it, for those two to freely offer us their services after such a superficial interrogation." He smiled ruefully at his wife. "It would be like the old times again. We did all have fun on Ryloth didn't we? And on Naboo."

Padmé laughed, and it was a delightful sound, something he had not heard since Takodana. "Naboo? For that reunion you'd have to invite Jar-Jar. And Qui-Gon's ghost somehow magically returned from the afterlife."

Anakin gently moved to hold his wife, and together they looked out the window. Across the lake was the Jedi's guest villa, and he could feel their presences, but no more. They were severely guarded, shielded.

"They are here to spy on us, see what we're really about."

"Let them," Padmé said, softness and steel in her voice both. "They will be of use to us, even under guise. But we cannot let our guard down."

He leaned down to kiss her neck and frowned. Letting go of his wife, he firmed massaged with his fingers her shoulders and upper back. "You're tense."

"The days are long," Padmé said, gasping as she enjoyed the sensations. "And there's so much work to be done."

"Come away with me," Anakin whispered into her ear. "Let's run away somewhere. Somewhere far in the Outer Rim, where no one can find us. Just a day or two...leave this war and Jedi and all this madness behind."

He felt his wife smile wistfully and knew her answer. "I wish we could, Ani. The stakes have never been higher now. Everyone will be watching us: Mothma, Organa, more and more Jedi. Even if we did not have a war to conduct...any unexplained absence will be noted with suspicion by all." She leaned her head backwards, taking in her husband's clear blue eyes, so longing, and so hard to say no to. "Once we take over, then we'll have time."

"Will we though?" With one motion, he flipped her around and toss her onto their bed, landing on top of her himself. "Terrorizing the galaxy will be very time consuming, I've no doubt."

Giggling in a way unbecoming of a sith lord, Padmé batted her fists playfully against her husband's chest. Undeterred, he pressed himself of her, laughing and feeling almost like they were just another couple. He covered her face with gentle kisses, his lips grazing her lips, her chin, her forehead, before he buried his face on the bed next to hers. When he spoke, his voice was muffled by the bed and the thick strands of brown hair by his mouth.

"It feels so far away, doesn't it?"

She stroked his back gently, enjoying the full weight of her husband on top of her. "What does, my love?"

Lifting his head, Anakin spoke close to her face so that she could feel his breath with each word.

"Everything. Power. Conquest. The galaxy. The throne. So close, yet so far"

"Our thrones," Padmé corrected, clenching his shoulders with her fingers. She repeated the words again, more fervently, passionately. " _Our_  thrones."

"One day," Anakin sighed wistfully. "We may be giants yet...but right now, doesn't it seem so...distant?" He looked around the room and back out the window towards the lake. "Look at us, flirting around like teenagers, having Obi-Wan babysit us just like before."

Padmé laughed shyly. "You're the only teenager here."

"Only for a few more days." A wicked grin appeared on Anakin's face. "They say on Tatooine men reach their sexual peak in their twenties."

She licked her lips like a predator. "I can't wait to find out...but there's no need to waste these last days."


	8. Chapter 8

Anakin Skywalker did not like Zygerria. The arid air, the dry, barren landscape, the specks of sand that somehow managed to sneak their way into his nostrils with every breath despite his best efforts...it reminded him too much of his own home planet. And not to mention the  _other_  obvious similarity, the droves of forlorn, pathetic looking slaves such as the hundreds passing through their small outpost.

"How much time do we have, General?"

Rex, newly promoted on Amidala's recommendation shortly after Obi-Wan and Quinlan joined the Alliance, checked the computers studiously. "Scouts are reporting reinforcements arriving from Zygeros, five full battalions at least. We should expect bogey's within the hour."

"Kriff," Padmé said. Despite her powers in the Force, the chip deactivators were not working fast enough for them. "Can we spare any forces to defend this camp?"

"I don't know," Rex seemed doubtful. "We need all the numbers we can muster for the assault on the capitol."

His own chip reader busy in his hand, Obi-Wan called out from the other side of the slave queue. "With all respect, Consular, I do not believe the Zygerrians will fire upon their own slaves. If they believe they will still prevail in the battle, then they'd see no point to damaging those they believe to be their property."

"What if they believe the battle is lost, Master Jedi?" Padmé continued, hurriedly processing as many slaves as she could, careful not to be sloppy with her work. "They may activate all the slave detonators out of spite."

"Were they so inclined, they would have done so already."

"You have a point," Padmé admitted, much as she hated giving the Jedi any credit. But they were working together and for the time being, shared a common goal. "We shouldn't underestimate the ability of the powerful at self-delusion. Somehow, they still believe they can prevail."

"They're desperate," Anakin spat out with a scowl. "Slavers project their baseness onto their enemies, and think we'll enslave them if we win."

"Wise words, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, flipping the deactivator into his robes. He gestured towards their fighters. "Shall we?"

Anakin nodded. "I'll lead the squadron against the advance force. Obi-Wan and Rex, you can lead the ground assault. Padmé, what do you prefer?"

The leader of the Alliance continued her work down the line of slaves as she pondered her options. Taking out her comm, she buzzed the orbital command on the flagship. "Commander Cody, do you copy?"

"Consular Amidala," the response came from the  _Liberator_. "We await your orders."

"Any news on the  _situation_  in Coruscant?"

"Nothing, unfortunately. We have not heard from the extraction team."

"I spoke with Consular Mothma a few minutes ago," Quinlan added from the ship. "Unfortunately the Chancellor's inner circle has all but rebuffed even our most discrete inquiries..."

"Nevermind," Padmé said. "We'll focus on the battle at hand. Cody, direct a dozen extra squadrons to defend the slave barracks here." Noting a skeptical look from Obi-Wan, she continued. "We will put up a fight and get them to commit more of their droids in this sector. Rex, can you manage the defense?"

"Yes, Consular," the clone general said, a bit confused. "Especially if we're getting reinforcements."

"Good. Keep them occupied, and once you've dispatched the counterattack, Commander Cody will take over planetside and advance southwards towards the cave district. I believe there are significant slave populations there as well."

"But Consular," Cody started. Like Rex, he had only worked with the former Senator for a few months since she started joining her husband and the Jedi's on campaign, but felt comfortable enough to speak to her frankly. "The caves are the opposite direction from Zygeros, and processing those slaves could take another full day at least."

"Let the Queen believe we are devoting our resources inordinately to the slaves," Padmé said slyly. She turned to the older Jedi. "Obi-Wan, you and I will take a small squadron and mount a direct attack on the Royal Palace. Anakin and Rex, you can try to join us once the situation here settles down."

Obi-Wan paced the quarters in thought, sifting his fingers through his beard. "It is risky, and success depends on the Queen buying our feints."

"We are going to succeed," Padmé said icily, seemingly impatient at Obi-Wan for questioning her. "I have foreseen it."

"And we have an overwhelming numerical advantage," the Jedi added, not keen to let a Sith have the last word. "There's that too."

"If we're going to win regardless," Anakin interjected, "why not have a little fun with it?"

With the smirk plastering the boy's face, it was hard for Obi-Wan to not see him as just a rambunctious young man barely out of his childhood, rather than a hardened general and a Sith lord to boot. He wondered whether it was too late for the boy, or even his wife for the matter. Unlike the only other Sith he had encountered in his life, these two did not seem to bathe in the Dark Side and all the turbulent emotions that accompanied it. Though that was probably from good shielding, he reasoned. Senator Palpatine, the late and likely Sith mastermind of the Naboo crisis, certainly raised no alarms amongst the few Jedi who had encountered him around the Senate building.

The Clone General smiled as well. "General Skywalker," Rex said frankly, "I'm surprised you're not one of us brothers, considering what constitutes as fun for you."

* * *

They exchanged few words during the raid, the physical exertion of climbing through the underground tunnels below the Zygerrian royal palace taking up most of their efforts. One of the clones, Fives was his name, swore when they approached a section leading downwards, which meant that they had either taken a wrong turn, or would have to inevitably reclimb what they just sweated through to reach the palace level above.

"What is it with these royals," he grumbled. "Why does everything have to be a maze?"

"These tunnels are ancient," Obi-Wan said. "While the kings and queens of old surely knew the way were an escape from a palace siege necessary, the labyrinth serves to deter their slaves from similar notions."

"I'm confident we are not lost," Padmé added, sensing Fives' distress. "Artoo's scans of the terrain are precise. Right, Artoo?"

The droid whistled in agreement from the front of their procession, indicating that they were very close to the palace. Padmé patted the droid on its dome affectionately. As much as she hated to admit it, she was having as much fun as Anakin would have had in such a situation, crawling through these dank tunnels at the head of her soldiers. Politics was still her passion of course, just as much as they had been Sidious's, but it felt good to get away sometimes. Especially if it meant that she could spend more time with her husband.

Amidala had no doubt that Mon and Bail could manage the internal dealings of the Alliance from Hosnian Prime, the newly designated and temporary capital until they retook Coruscant. That was certainly her plan of course, and she knew that while Mon was uneasy of any outright conquest or aggressive maneuvers towards the Republic, Bail was leaning towards trying to retake the capital for the sole reason of freeing the inhabitants from the incompetently evil oppression of Nute Gunray, though the Consular from Alderaan had voiced many concerns about whether it was possible to mount a battle on such a populated world with minimal bloodshed.

While neither one of them gave voice to it, Padmé was certain that her fellow Consulars and longest running allies within the old Senate were now very wary of her now that her affiliation as a Sith had been revealed. Their body language did not betray them, but their minds did, projecting fear and apprehension whenever she was around. She would deal with them later, but for now she still needed the two erstwhile allies, and her temporary absence from governmental affairs helped soothe the psyches of her fellow Consulars. Let them assume that they were in control.

A furious shriek from Artoo brought her back to the present as blaster fire suddenly tore upon them from either end of the tunnel. Instantly the clone troopers formed a protective semi-circle, firing back at the advancing droids.

"We've been spotted," the commander known as Dogma yelled.

"I'll take these ones," Obi-Wan yelled at the Sith, expertly deflecting the blaster shots back at the droids, taking them down with their own fire one by one. "You take the ones in the rear."

Padmé nodded. Ignoring her own lightsaber, she merely stretched her arm towards the droids and, with one shoving motion, all the enemy clankers found themselves violently pushed and crushed against the tunnel walls into a thousand pieces. Reaching her other hand in Obi-Wan's direction, she directed a Force push to rid all of his droids for good measure.

"Typical," Obi-Wan said, shaking his head as he put away his lightsaber. "The Sith, always choosing the path of expediency."

"It was effective, was it not," Padmé asked, shrugging. "It shortened the skirmish and likely saved a few lives of our men." She looked over to one of the clones. "Agree, Fives?"

Both she and Obi-Wan could feel the trooper's uncertainty under his helmet, suddenly thrust into a philosophical debate between Jedi and Sith.

"You all have powers I don't quite fully understand," the trooper finally said. "I won't question either one of you...but as a brother I can't see myself hesitating to use whatever resources I have to help another brother."

"Clearly a raid is no place to debate semantics," Padmé said, already running ahead deeper in the tunnel. She looked back at Obi-Wan as she ran. "Besides, Jedi, there is no need for pretense. We all know you are salivating to see the extent of my powers so you can ably plan on how you will dispose of me once we have defeated Gunray."

"You doth project too much," Obi-Wan said, though he understood the truth to her words. And the implicit threat and challenge in that, when the current unspoken truce between Jedi and Sith finally ended, she would be prepared. "Would it be unfair though, considering you have had over ten years to spy upon my abilities?"

Padmé laughed. "You reveal yourself then. Out of all the great and revered members of your Order, you would be the one I fear most. More than Masters Yoda, Windu, or anyone on your High Council. I'm glad to finally learn how you view your own importance."

"That was a mere joke, I assure you Consular. I certainly do not view myself in such a manner."

She enjoyed herself as the Jedi visibly squirm at her words. He was telling the truth of course. Obi-Wan Kenobi was wedded to the Jedi Code, and an outsized ego was likely against his very nature. Her voice softened when she responded. "Such a perspective would not be lacking in some merit, of course. I do honestly believe that your power and your potential eclipse that of many on the Council. In time, I see that you may even follow Master Yoda as Grandmaster. It would suit you well."

"I see you have switched your weapon to flattery then." They ran in silence for a few seconds, both of them returning their senses to the scene of the upcoming battle, hoping not to be surprised by more enemy fighters or droids. Obi-Wan broke the silence thoughtfully. "I had the same hopes for Anakin actually, that he could have surpassed us all in the Order."

"No," Padmé hissed, surprising Obi-Wan with her sudden vehemence.

"He is not yours to claim, you know. You do not own the man."

"Nor do you, or your Order," Padmé replied back, the hostility clear in her voice. "Anakin made the best choice for himself. The Order would have been oil to his water."

"You made that choice so easy for him," Obi-Wan remarked, his disdain clear in his voice. "He wanted nothing more than to be a Jedi until you interfered. I wonder sometimes, did you seduce him right then and there, or did you wait a week or two before bedding him?"

They had ran far ahead of their clone contingent so that their conversation was now out of their earshot. Padmé stopped abruptly to face the Jedi, and for the first time, Obi-Wan saw her eyes gleaming with yellow.

"Do not dare to slander me or my husband in that manner, Jedi." She calmed, and just as quickly, her eyes returned to their normal brown color. She leaned in aggressive towards the Jedi. "You act as if you Jedi acted purely and did not try to manipulate a young and impressionable boy for want of his power. Let me tell you want Anakin wants, Jedi. Anakin wants me. He wants his mother. He wants family. Neither you or Master Qui-Gon thought to tell him such things would be impossible once you enrolled him in your Order."

"Don't you dare insult Qui-Gon,  _Sith_ ," Obi-Wan threatened back as his hands moved instinctively onto his weapon. "He gave his life for  _your_  planet and he would have been happy to give his life for Anakin without hesitation. He was murdered by a member of  _your_  Order, at the hands of a monster trained by  _your_  master. His intentions for Anakin were far more purer than yours."

Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief when the young Sith lady backed away.

"I respect your Master and his sacrifice. But he was blinded by his indoctrination. You never would have been able to force Anakin to abandon me, or his mother."

With enough words exchanged between the two, they continued on in silence until they reached the end of the tunnel, where a small switch in the stone betrayed the entrance to the palace.

"You hate me," Padmé said as they waited for the rest of the clones to catch up.

"Jedi do not hate," Obi-Wan said, knowing that he was avoiding her eyes as he spoke.

"Resent, then. You never cared for Anakin. All he was to you was a tool to honor Master Qui-Gon's last wish. And you resent me for denying you that privilege. You believe that, for some reason, his legacy remains unfulfilled, incomplete in your mind for the sole reason that you did not train Anakin as a Jedi."

"I did care for the boy," Obi-Wan started, though he quickly cut himself off when the clanging of footsteps broached their ears as the clones, led by Fives and Dogma, caught up to them. The fact that he did not start with denying her other allegations did not escape Padmé's notice.

"What's the situation," Five started uneasily. He noticed the tension between the two commanders. "Can you sense what's going on up there, if they're already aware of our presence down here?"

"I think the situation is well in hand," Padmé said, opening the door. Sure enough, they found the Palace guards running around chaotically, running from the blaster fire coming from above. Quickly, they heard the hum of two lightsabers and Padmé beamed with pride when she saw her husband appear through the scrum, his twin lightsabers chopping down droids and guard alike, followed closely by Rex and the rest of the clones.

"I see you took care of the counterattack," Padmé said, jumping, flying and spinning through the blaster fire to land next to Anakin, managing to place a quick peck upon his lips even in the midst of battle.

"We crushed them easily," Anakin boasted. He looked over to the Jedi and Padmé's group, who were quickly advancing through the enemy, leaving the few survivors surrounded on both sides. "How was Obi-Wan?"

"Interesting," was all Padmé said, causing Anakin to raise his eyebrow. She moved to change the subject. "Let's finish off these slavers, shall we?"

The end of the Zygerria campaign was now more of a slaughter than a battle, as the two siths viciously and ruthlessly cut down every enemy who dared to come at them. The clones followed suit and only Obi-Wan, who emanated his disapproval liberally through the Force, made an attempt to aim his deflections only towards the enemy droids, taking care to merely disable any sentient opponents unless there was no other choice. Within minutes they found themselves in the throne room, where the slaver Queen and her underling, Atai Molec, cowered in fear.

"Please," Miraj Scintel begged, falling to her knees. "We surrender. We will join your Alliance. I promise, I will stand by you myself when you take the head off of Chancellor Gunray."

"We have credits," Atai Molec started, but was quickly cut short when Anakin separated his head from his shoulders in one smooth motion.

"Anakin Skywalker," Obi-Wan scolded loudly, stopping Padmé in her tracks as she advanced towards the Queen. "Consular Amidala, may I remind you that the Queen and her advisers has already surrendered. Surely your allies would frown upon your slaughter of a harmless prisoner, much less one that is a head of state."

"They deserve it," Padmé said, turning back to the Jedi, her eyes terrifyingly yellow again. "What do you intend to do about it, Jedi?"

"I will observe Galactic law," Obi-Wan said. He advanced towards her. "I will enforce Galactic law, if need be. That is why myself and Quinlan are assisting you in the first place."

The entire room, from husband to Jedi to clones to slaver Queen watched and waited for the lady of the Sith to make her next move. Obi-Wan breathed yet another sigh of relief as the yellow left her eyes again, and she deactivated her weapons. Regaining her bearing, she marched right past Obi-Wan and towards the clones.

"General Rex, I believe your men can escort our prisoner to her quarters on the  _Liberator_."

Rex nodded. "We will ensure the prisoner arrives safely for her trial on Hosnian Prime, Consular." Leaning in, he whispered into her ears. "Personally, I wish you would have run her through though."

* * *

The former Queen and Senator rushed off her ship the moment it docked back into the royal spaceport in Theed, surprised to see the current Queen's two main handmaidens waiting to greet her.

"Consular Amidala," Dormé said, bowing to her former monarch. "Queen Jamillia wishes to meet with you as soon as possible."

Padmé bowed back. "I will oblige her, of course, provided that Anakin and I have a chance to clean ourselves up."

"Your quarters are ready," Moteé said. "But her majesty wishes to meet with you  _alone_."

"Very well," Padmé answered. This was odd, and she could sense the apprehension in the Queen's two handmaidens. But she had more pressing matters to worry about right now. "Any word from Coruscant," she asked. "Have we heard back from the extraction team?"

Dormé seemed afraid to answer. "I'm afraid to say the rescue attempt failed, milady. The Chancellor has announced a press conference. I believe it is slated to start any minute now."

"Come," Padmé said to Anakin, who was just disembarking from the ship now with their belongings. "We will watch in the room."

They rushed to the chambers Jamillia had prepared for them, and Padmé barely noticed that they were not in the royal wing, usually reserved for guests of honor. She was glad that Obi-Wan and Quinlan had accompanied Rex and the 501st back to Hosnian Prime. She did not want the Jedi to see her now, in her moment of weakness.

They turned on the holo the moment upon entering their room, barely catching the beginning of the Chancellor's press conference. As he spoke, he held a knife above the a small woman, kneeling below him, her hands bound and her face heavily bruised, with blotches of blood sullying her weary dress.

"Saché," Padmé whispered softly, her heart breaking at the sight of her friend and former handmaiden.

"...the witch bitch Amidala sends more assassins to save this pathetic evil assassin," Gunray was blathering from his Senate pod. He looked down at his prisoner and spat on her. "They try to kill me. They fail. Now they die. They all die. And I will kill her now. All evil must die. Gunray will save everyone. Let this be a message to Alliance and their evil allies. You will fail and you will all die die die!"

The tall Neimoidian clumsily bent down and, to the horror of Anakin, Padmé, and all the galaxy watching the transmission, cut the knife slowly across the woman's neck. Gasping in pain, her hands bound tightly even as she instinctively tried to move them up to cover her wound, Saché struggled to remain upright for half a minute before she finally collapsed upon the ground.

With a primal scream, Padmé hurled the holoprojector across the room, mercifully breaking it and ending the farce of its transmission. She felt Anakin's arms embrace her, holding her tightly as she tried not to cry. Not when she needed to meet with the Queen so quickly afterwards.

"I'm so sorry," was all he said. It was all he could say.

"She gave them their blood, but she did not give them her tears. She did not give them her dignity. Saché remained true Naboo to the very end."

Clearly Nute Gunray had lied yet again, this time to the galaxy about her former handmaiden. Though she would doubtlessly give her life to protect her former Queen, Saché was nothing of an assassin or even an Alliance operative in any manner. A quiet schoolteacher with her stint as a Royal Handmaiden served, she only wished to visit a sister who had moved to Coruscant to marry a young engineer. Padmé had warned her not to go, that the capital world was not safe for anyone associated with the name Amidala, but Saché had brushed off her concerns, acting as usual with her heart.

"This damned war," Padmé raged softly. "We didn't even have a chance to rescue her ourselves."

"It would have been difficult," Anakin tried consoling. "Our resources are stretched thin as they are, what with the Zygerria campaign and the multiple Hutt fronts and Felucia and Mygeeto..."

"I know," Padmé said, kissing Anakin's hand to signal that she did not interrupt him out of anger. "Still, we failed her. I failed her. She suffered for me. She died for me, like so many others." The Sith master allowed herself to cry in her husband arms for a few minutes before steeling herself.

"I must meet with the Queen," Padmé said, wiping away her tears with a small handkerchief. "Wait for me."

"Always," Anakin said. "I will meditate until your return."

* * *

Any evidence of her emotional outburst was long gone by the time she entered the Queen's throne room. Jamillia sat flanked by her two handmaidens, her bearing regal as always, but Padmé, like the encounter at the spaceport, sensed an inordinate amount of anxiety from everyone in the room save her.

"Consular Amidala," Jamillia said, nodding her head as she beckoned Padmé towards the seat across from hers. "A pleasure as always."

Padmé bowed politely before taking her seat. "Your majesty. This day is a tragedy for Naboo. I hope we can think of something to honor Saché's memory."

"A tragedy, yes." The anger was clear in her voice as well. "One tragedy amongst so many these days, it pains me to think of it." Pausing, Jamilia reached for a datapad. "Governor Lago has informed me that some of the most elite members of Naboo's security contingent were lost in the rescue attempt."

"It was unavoidable, your majesty. The Alliance could not afford to spare any resources. Furthermore, the presence of any clone troopers on Coruscant would convey a more aggressive stance than what the Alliance would have wished at this time."

"Of course," Jamillia responded coldly, "the Alliance takes priority over the lives of the Naboo."

"Their mission was to save the life of a Naboo," Padmé replied, barely keeping her voice at a low, icy tone. "If you wish to tell me something, your majesty, I advise you to spare the niceties and speak to me directly."

"Very well," Jamillia said, sighing. She stood up, hovering menacingly above the desk and her predecessor on the throne. "You had no authority to send Naboo forces to Coruscant. Frankly speaking, you have brought war to Naboo. You have brought death to Naboo. Though I am no fan of the Supreme Chancellor, despite my doubts about this secession I supported it because I believed you had Naboo's best intentions at heart. Considering your affiliation with the Sith Order, I can no longer be certain of your true allegiances."

Padmé stood as well, leaning onto the table same as Jamillia so that her face was almost facing her Queen's. "I  _am_  the Sith Order," she snarled. "Believe me, there is no one else controlling my actions."

"All more reason for my suspicions," Jamillia retorted bravely. "I do not know what you value more. Naboo? The Republic? The Alliance? Or your own power?"

"What I want has always been clear. I want peace, freedom, and justice for the Republic and all sentient beings."

"Or so you claim," Jamillia said as Dormé gulped nervously behind her. "I've done my research on the Sith Order, Consular. The Sith act only for the sake of their own power, and always use deception as a means to their ends."

"Speak further," Padmé whispered, barely controlling her anger. "Give voice to what you are accusing me of."

"I accuse you of nothing." Jamillia sat back down, trying as Padmé was to take control of her temper. "I have no evidence but my own instincts, of course, But I do have the power to withdraw your representation of Naboo and the Chommell Sector, effective immediately. By its bylaws, you will resign at once your position of Consul of the Alliance. I have also instructed Governor Lago to initiate peace talks with the Republic and the Senate. War is not in our culture..."

"What are you saying," Padmé started, barely comprehending what was happening. So close, and her Queen was pulling the rug from under their cause. It angered her, Jamillia's temerity, and it angered her that she had not foreseen it.

"I trust your retirement will be fruitful and fulfilling," Jamillia said. "After all, you have told me on multiple occasions how much you enjoy spending time at Varykino."

"I find your lack of faith disturbing," Padmé hissed out. Without thinking, she clenched her fingers together, and Jamillia gasped as she found herself lifted into the air, unable to breathe.

Suspended over her throne and thrashing for air, she looked at her two handmaidens in panic. "Help," she managed to cry out. "Help me!"

To her further surprise, neither of her two haidmaidens moved from their positions.

"It appears the Queen is having a heart attack," Dormé said, staring straight ahead at the throne room entrance.

"Or a stroke," Moteé said. "It does not look good."

"We must get help," Dormé said, motionless.

"Yes, we must," Moteé agreed, standing still in her position. "I fear it may be too late."

As she felt her life slowly being wrenched away from her by the Sith, the betrayal of two of her closest advisers, friends even, broke her heart. "You can't...you can't," she struggled to say as the invisible grip on her throat wrenched tighter and tighter.

"Foolish woman," Padmé continued, the yellow in her eyes so thick that it seemed close to bursting out to burn everything in its path. "Only now, in the end, do you see where the true allegiances of the Naboo lie.  _Amidala_ , my Queen. You are nothing! Naboo will  _always_  follow  _Amidala_."

Feeling the life force leave the Queen's body, she flung the corpse violently against the wall. As she felt the blood rush back to her head, Padmé collapsed on her chair.

"What have I done," she gasped. The scene felt surreal to her. The entire day, from Saché's execution to the meeting with the Queen had seemed a dream, and only now was she waking.

Dormé and Moteé approached Jamillia's body, the latter pulling out a vial of makeup and quickly began to apply it on the late Queen's neck, covering up the bruises Padmé's Force choke had inflicted upon her.

"She was about to betray you," Dormé said.

Both young handmaidens had approached Padmé shortly after her term as Queen had ended, applying to enter her service as a Senator. Padmé had instructed them to seek the patronage of the newly elected Queen instead, that the best way to serve her was to act as her eyes and ears in Theed. Though Padmé suspected that the new Queen was fiercely independent and impossible for her to fully control, she never envisioned that their relationship would end like this.

"Still, there were other ways. I could have argued my case. I could have convinced her..."

"We will inform the Governor of the Queen's unfortunate passing from a heart attack," Moteé interrupted.

"I did not enter this meeting into the official annals," Dormé added. "Moteé will erase the security footage. The meeting never happened. As Chief Handmaiden, I will be in charge of the autopsy."

"No one will know," Moteé assured. "We will take this secret to our graves."

"I should not have killed her. Jamillia was misguided...but she was a good woman. She did have Naboo's interests at heart. She did not deserve this." Padmé buried her head into her hands. All of a sudden, it felt like the weight of her entire existence, Sidious, the Jedi, the War, was bearing down upon her soul, showing her no mercy. Gathering her strength, she stood and walked up to the throne next to the handmaidens. "But I thank you for your service and your loyalty. You will be rewarded."

"There is no need," Dormé said, bowing. "Naboo will always remain loyal to their true Queen, whatever her title may be."

"I will retire for the night," Padmé said. There would be so much more she needed to do with this most recent complication. New elections would have to be arranged, and Padmé could only hope that whoever was elected would be less troublesome than Jamillia. She could manipulate the election, of course, and ensure that one of her protege's took the throne. It might be necessary, but it was so much more work, but all she wanted to do at this moment, more so than any other time in her life it seemed, was to curl up and fall asleep in her husband's arms.


	9. Chapter 9

What little physical remains of Darth Sidious which lay buried in the Palpatine family estate would be turning over in his grave, Padmé mused as she found herself buried once more under the comfort of her blankets, unable to will herself to leave her bed and face yet another day. Was this truly war, she wondered? It seemed to her an endless bipolar cycle of pain and torment, juxtaposed in between the adrenaline high of action, rage, death...the almost orgasmic feel of the Force flowing through her as she cut through a battlefield, followed unfailingly by the guilt, the self-recrimination, the revenge of her conscience once that high wore off. Sidious would have reveled in it, drinking in the deaths and sufferings felt across the galaxy like mother's milk. For her part, Padmé was already struggling and failing to ward off the worst of her demons, even while trying to wean off as much of the Dark Side as she could during this turbulent time. If she couldn't handle a small war now, completely out of her own making, how could she handle ruling a galactic empire?

She heard the water in the fresher turn off and minutes, later, Anakin emerge back into their room, and felt his surprise through the Force.

"You're still sleeping," he said matter of factly.

"No." She pulled her head from under the blanket, admiring the sleek body and form of her husband, dressed in a light silk morning gown. "I was just...meditating."

Anakin laughed. "Well, if that's the case then I hope you can meditate yourself ready for your morning briefing in twenty minutes."

"Ugh," Padmé moaned painfully. "Ani, can you be a dear and read me my schedule today?"

He frowned. The Padmé he knew and loved would have already have the next week's schedule memorized, complete with hundreds of potential adjustments and contingencies if necessary. Anakin walked over to the bureau to pick up his wife's datapad.

"0845, briefing with Mon and Bail. 0950, briefing with General Dooku. 1100 briefing with Obi-Wan and Quinlan. 1220, lunch with the Queen...well, we can check that one off the list at least." Squinting his eyes, he moved to adjust her schedule to account for the expected death of Queen Jamillia.

"Cancel it all," Padmé said groggily, slowly rising from the bed. She looked around the room, where a glimpse of her visage in a side mirror brought her side to side with Anakin. The sith groaned again as she studied her appearance. She was less than a year away from thirty, looked like she was forty, and felt over a hundred years old.

"Are you sure," Anakin asked quizzically. "I suppose with Naboo in mourning for their queen it would be understandable."

"I'm standing in a dead woman's house," Padmé whispered more to herself than anyone else. "I just want to leave here. Go to Varykino...or hells, Tatooine even. Anywhere but here."

"It wasn't your fault," Anakin said, recognizing that he needed to comfort his wife once more. Setting the datapad down, he put his arms around her small frame. "Jamillia made her decisions, and she alone decided her fate."

"Dormé said the same thing. But...," she frowned, thinking back to the events of yesterday. "Even if she needed to die...I enjoyed doing it. I enjoyed choking the life out of her. I reveled in her shock, her pain, her...her grief when she realized she had been betrayed by those she cared about."

"It's the nature of the Dark Side," Anakin said, confused as to why his wife felt so pained over one death. They both had killed many many times, and seen death even more often. "It strengthens us."

"No," Padmé said, pulling away from her husband and walking alone to the small balcony overlooking a small inner courtyard within the palace grounds. "It's me."

Anakin followed, confused as ever. "I don't understand." Moving to comfort her once again, he felt himself rebuffed almost violently through the Force.

"Do not touch me, Anakin Skywalker!" Padmé turned swiftly to face her husband, and Anakin saw just sadness rather than anger as she backed slowly away from him, her words a warning, not a reproach. "I am not a good person. I am tainted by death. By darkness."

"We're Siths," Anakin protested strongly, not knowing what to make of his wife's sudden existential crisis. "Yes, we changed the Order to serve the greater good, but still, the Dark Side will claim its share. We both know this."

"Not the Dark Side," Padmé said, pacing slowly across the room in a circular path. "It's me. This ambition inside me...I can feel it. It devours me every waking day, it gnaws at me while I sleep...I feel it eating away at my soul at all times. I feel this ambition...the path it lays before me, and everything else falls away...but just getting what I want is not enough."

She stopped, and slowly lifted her arm in by inch, pointing one finger out towards the window. "No. I wish to destroy them. It angers me, that they dare deny us what is rightfully ours. That it dares to defy this hunger in me. I don't even hate them, for they are below my hatred. I feel for them only contempt. They are beneath me, beneath us. They are not even worthy of our presence, let alone our hate. They do not deserve it more than us. No one deserves it more than us, because no one desires this, desires everything, more than us. More than me."

Realizing that she was screaming, hyperventilating, she lowered her voice, but continued. "I feel the truth, Anakin. I have always felt this fire burning within me. It may be amplified by the Dark Side, but this is me. This has always been me."

"Then let's step away," Anakin said, surprising her with the simplicity and frankness of his response.

"Can you do that? After everything that we've done, after all the work...all that this has cost us."

"Yes." He approached his wife and sensing none of the resistance from before, clasped her shoulders softly with his hands.

"What about freeing the slaves? Ending corruption, bribery, crime? Can you just let the slime of the galaxy continue as they were?" She would have said 'villains', if only for the realization that she already was one herself. There were tears in her eyes, something that was all too common by this stage of her war.

"Padmé," Anakin whispered softly. "I love you. I am infinitely proud of everything we have accomplished together. For you, I would free a million slaves." He paused, his expression growing darker. "For your soul, I will also slaughter billions. To save you, I would set the galaxy afire. Whatever you ask, I shall do."

Seeing her contemplate his words, he continued. "But we must move forward or back. Either we finish what we started, or we run, and live the rest of our lives running. Either path I will take gladly, but I will embark on neither one unless it is what you truly want. What your soul, what your heart tells you is the right path. If you say your soul is dead, then I will stab my own in the heart as well, and we will live out the rest of our days as monsters, fine by me. If you wish to reclaim yours..."

"What is there to reclaim," Padmé asked, looking down uncertainly at their feet. "At this stage, after all we have done. Had we any conscience left..."

"We do," Anakin insisted. "You continue to mourn the consequences of our actions. Sifo-Dyas's death, Jamillia's...all the innocent lives in this war, if they still stain our consciences, then it still lives. You say the darkness is in your soul. If you're wrong, and it is truly the Dark Side controlling us, then we are lost anyway. But if the demons are our own, then we have control of it, and we can continue to control it. Either the choice is always ours to make, or it is already too late."

Padmé sighed. "And what if we don't know?"

"If we don't know ourselves, then we do not deserve the title of master."

Taking a deep breath, the lady of the Sith made her decision. "I believe the darkness lies within us. But no running. Even if it is too late for me, I would rather die a shadow, falling forward, lunging into oblivion...than a feral beast, toothless in retreat." She took one step forward, pressing her body as close as she could to Anakin's, and stroked his cheek with her thumb and index finger, noting the irony of how they formed the same shape that took the life of the Queen the previous day. "But it's not too late for you. You're still young, your soul less tainted by darkness and time. If the Jedi are right, that you are the Chosen One, then there is nothing impossible for you. Leave me while you still can, and save yourself."

As Anakin pulled away from her upon her words, Padmé felt her heart sink. She had made the offer, but would he really leave her? How could she live with that? Oddly, she watched her husband retrace her path, pointing down with one finger in each spot upon the marble where she had placed her feet in seconds prior. He then pointed at his own two feet.

"Do you see these," he asked, staring intently at her, his blue eyes never so intense before in her memory. "These are the footsteps of giants. Think of the great ones that came before us. Teta. Revan. Or even King Jafan here on Naboo, or every great dynast or conqueror in the history every single system in this galaxy...do you think they accomplished what they did with unblemished consciences? That they lived as infallible saints, even the founding Jedi of old, to be able to change the course of history and bend it to their own will?" He pointedly did not mention the Jedi of their era, those mumbling mediocrities who could never come close to being bestowed by greatness.

"No," Padmé said, continuing Anakin's line of thought. "Some were good. Some were evil. Some were neither. Or both."

"Their deeds live on. Their names live on." Seeing the light and spirit return to her eyes, Anakin smiled and took her hand in his. "I am with you forever. In this life and what may come. With our footsteps, we will crush many. But we walk down the road of legends. As equals. As partners. As we promised so many years ago."

"Then woe be to those who stand in our way," Padmé said, as she felt the fire reignite inside her. Though she wondered if it could ever be tamed again.

* * *

She was convinced she could fix the galaxy. She had to try, considering no one else seemed willing to do so. Well, she guessed Skyguy and that Amidala lady were trying, from a certain point of view. As for the Jedi who had joined the Sith, she didn't know what to think. Not that they joined the Dark Side, per se, but they were serving their will.

"And freeing slaves and sentients from oppression," Ahsoka reminded herself. How did that compare to those who served the Supreme Chancellor, who was now pretty much openly on record as supporting slavery and oppression. Precious few served him directly, thankfully, most having learned the lessons of Ki-Adi-Mundi. Most, like her own master Kit Fisto, now on yet another trip to Dagobah to seek the alleged wisdom of Grandmaster Yoda, did nothing, leaving her to the doldrums of her classes and all those instructors, teachers who never seemed able to answer all of her questions is a satisfying or sensible way.

"Why don't we just get rid of him," she had managed to ask Master Windu once when they bumped into each other in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The senior Jedi quickly launched into a lecture involving legal precedents and political ramifications and the future of the Republic, but it all sounded like excuses to her. There wasn't going to be a future to the Republic unless  _someone_  did  _something_!

The door to Senator Fafi's office was open, and Ahsoka held her nose as she mustered up the courage to approach the man. She did not fear him, not at all, but there was something about the Senator that always repulsed her, even to the point of nausea. It was odd, that he gave her such a bad feeling, while Anakin Skywalker, one of the two Siths she had actually encountered on Sern Prime...hells, Ahsoka hated to admit it...she liked! He seemed...normal. Fun. Cool. Brave. And until the revelation, Senator Amidala had been one of the few politicians she actually admired in the galaxy. Even now, she struggled to rationalize what it was that Amidala was actually doing  _wrong_. How was she actually harming the galaxy, so much so to cause such loathing and trepidation from many in her Order?

She knocked. "Mas," a deep voice sounded from within the office. "I don't recall you on the docket today."

Ahsoka gently pushed the door open.

"Oh," Fafi said, his eyes widening in shock before he quickly recovered, gathering his Senatorial bearing. "Ah, a young Jedi...Padawan, I believe? How may I help you? I do not recall meeting you before?"

He eyed her slim figure up and down. She was very young, he realized. Not too young necessarily for his tastes, but Fafi did not get to where he was by thinking with his balls. Power and politics  _always_  came first...the rest would come naturally. For that, he needed to maintain propriety. Jedi were to be taken seriously, even children.

"Senator Fafi? I'm...my name is Ahsoka Tano."

"Ahsoka Tano." He paused in thought. "Ah yes, you were one of the Jedi that accompanied the traitor Skywalker on Sern Prime, weren't you?"

"I participated in the battle, yes." She still did not fear the Senator. He could accuse her of being a traitor, but she could easily pierce his fat heart with a lightsaber. Besides, it was similar rumors surrounding Fafi's office that brought her here in the first place.

"So it would appear then," Fafi said diplomatically. There was no point to threatening a Jedi, even a child as that. Especially since he sensed that she needed his help somehow. "So complicated is the state of the galaxy these days, with so many shifting loyalties."

"Yes, Senator. There's a lot of rumors too about you, ya know...on the holonets."

"Is there now?"

"Jedi gossip too, sometimes. Most Jedi do not approve of Chancellor's Gunray's actions at this point."

Fafi coughed loudly. "Chancellor Gunray is our elected leader and we must follow his leadership the best we can," he said, putting extra volume into his voice.

"I don't think you're beloved in the Order either, but I think there's many who would prefer you to Gunray. They think they can work with you, at least, within reason. You, at the very least, would not cut the throat of an innocent woman live before the entire galaxy." She didn't say that she figured Fafi would probably have something of that sort done behind closed doors.

"She was an assassin convicted of espionage."

"Oh come on, you know that's complete bullsith, Senator, what with Gunray being the sole judge and jury."

"Hmmppff. You speak for Master Windu now? He fears coming here to speak this treason in person?"

"Excuse me," Ahsoka said, crossing her arms indignantly, "I speak for no one but myself."

"Ha," Fafi said, laughing as he took a swig of water. "So you seek to singlehandedly execute a coup d'etat, hmmm?"

"You know," Ahsoka said slyly, "that's what the rumors say you're trying to do too. Maybe we can help one another?"

"Close the door," Fafi said, more quietly this time. So this girl wanted to play with fire? Let him see how far she was willing to go then.

Ahsoka obliged.

"What is it that you're really trying to accomplish, young Ahsoka?"

"What is it you're trying for, Senator? The rumors say that you want to take his place to open negotiations with the Alliance."

Fafi beckoned the young Padawan closer with his fingers, and she approached his desk. "Do you trust me, young Ahsoka?"

Ahsoka scoffed. "Like I'd trust a rancor!"

It was Fafi's turn to act indignant. "Then why come to me then?"

"Because you're not Nute Gunray. If somehow you can restore peace to the Republic and bring the Alliance back into the fold, then that's better than continuing the way we are now. You know this can't last. I'm guessing...I'm guessing that if you're the one to negotiate the peace, you can get yourself a pardon for your own crimes. And the Jedi will forgive everything since Republic can bring in the Sith once it's reunited." Truthfully, she wouldn't mind it if the Siths got away. Let them roam the galaxy, freeing more slaves in the Outer Rim. She just wanted to end Gunray's reign of terror.

"Very interesting thoughts," Fafi said. She was bright child, but she was still a child, knowledgeable of the ways of the world, yet naive about how things  _really_  worked. "Why you?"

"Because no one else is doing anything."

Fafi chuckled again, this time in a way that made Ahsoka shiver. "You are dismissed, Padawan. This conversation never took place."

"Huh?" It felt like she had been slapped in the face. She seemed so close to gaining his confidence. Would he report her to the Jedi Council now? To Gunray?

"There is opportunity," Fafi whispered, "and there is time. They are two separate entities. When they coincide, you will know."

He winked, an atrocious sight, but bowing before she left, Ahsoka was happy with the result of the meeting nevertheless.

So was Fafi. He retrieved his datapad and pulled up a list of Jedi. Setting the filters until it showed only those currently working with the Alliance at the moment, he read and reviewed the profiles of every member of the Order until he found the one he was looking for, and whispered the name to himself.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi."


	10. Chapter 10

Darth Mirayya gritted her teeth, though she was more than accustomed now to the sounds of blasterfire and explosions. It was almost calming in a way, especially since they quieted those voices in her head that seemed always invade her thoughts when she wasn't fighting for her life. It was ironic. The battle cleansed her soul, and she cleansed the galaxy with each victory over her opponents. Especially on Nal Hutta...they were especially going to enjoy the end of this siege.

Their society highly stratified, Padmé had found the campaign easy to manage from the perspective that there were few civilian population centers to plan around. Most Hutts were heavily involved in the criminal underworld anyway, and the clans barricaded themselves in heavily fortified palaces populated by little more than scum and villainy, making each a prime target for a direct obliteration. The campaign had already wreaked through more than a quarter of Nal Hutta's key ports and logistical centers, and seeing certain defeat in isolation, many of the clans had banded together in a larger holdout on the planet's Northern Ledges, one of the more dryer and inhospitable regions of the mostly swampy planet.

 _All the easier to wipe out at once_ , Padmé thought. Taking the fortress and its gathered defensive forces would leave the rest of the campaign a mere mop-op operation. There was more to the Hutt Empire than just one planet of course, and fully dislodging the slave conglomerate from its trade routes and economy would require a more sustained campaign, one that would take years even with the full concentration and might of her future empire, but knocking out the Hutt homeworld at this stage of the war would serve as a powerful symbolic defeat for the Hutt's, enough to knock them out of their fragile alliance with the Republic so that she could concentrate on her final return to Coruscant.

She felt an unwelcome presence on the planet and swore as two small Jedi fighters landed next to in her proximity. Next to her, Anakin raised an eyebrow, reading her mind.

"I hope we're not too late for the fun part," Obi-Wan said as he jumped out of his ship, lightsaber immediately raised to deflect the flurry of blaster fire coming from the compound, located high above them on a formidable cliff.

Padmé replied in her politician voice. "War is hell, Master Jedi. You out of anyone should understand that there is nothing fun about it."

"I can think of a few things," Quinlan said with a wink as he expertly aimed one deflection that took out three droids in a row before hitting one of the Hutt cannons hundreds of meters above. "

"Oh, impressive," Padmé remarked with a smirk. So it would be a contest then. As she twirled her blades to one-up the Jedi, she noticed Obi-Wan maneuver himself next to Anakin.

"Your form is quite unique, young Skywalker."

"Not something you'd teach in your temple, I imagine," Anakin said nonchalantly.

"No, not one of our standard katas," Obi-Wan said, somehow methodically studying the mechanics of Anakin's movements even as he dodged, ducked, and swung back at the endless blaster shots. "Had you learned in the Temple though, I dare say you would have been a natural adherent of Soresu." He studied the young man's movements even more. "Or Djem So, actually. Your reflexes are suited to a more aggressive form."

"Why restrict yourself to one form though," Anakin pressed, flipping and somersaulting ahead of their group, swinging his two lightsabers wildly and almost recklessly...reckless if he didn't know exactly what he was doing. Hitting the cliffs, he effortlessly shot his ascension gun upwards, pulling him up rock face and landing under an overhang. Watching the rest of the group catch up, he taunted, "so many forms for the Jedi...all equally boring if you're the one teaching them."

Obi-Wan let out an uncharacteristic scoff. "Boring? I'll show you boring." Raising an outstretched hand, he pulled down several hut sized pieces of the rock cliff. With a deep breath, he copied Anakin's somersault and jumped onto each falling boulder after the other until he landed unevenly onto Anakin's small ledge. "Did Darth Highness teach you that little trick?"

From below, Padmé should her head as she retrieved her own gun. It was nauseating what Obi-Wan was doing, trying to ingratiate himself with his would-be Padawan. Anakin played along, being the gregarious, friendly boy that he was, and Padmé almost pitied the old Jedi, and hoped he wasn't about to get his hopes up.

"Not that trick," Anakin replied back to Obi-Wan. "But she did teach me this one." Discarding his gun back into his robes, Anakin took a deep breath and jumped impossibly high, propelling himself almost a hundred feet higher onto the cliffs, then clambering on the steep jagged rocks as gracefully as a nexu before disappearing out of view.

"He's even better in bed," Padmé said mischievously, landing next to Obi-Wan, who extended his lightsaber out into the open air to deflect more shots coming from above.

"My condolences to Queen Jamillia, by the way." He felt Quinlan Vos land next to him, soon followed by Rex and several more of the clones. "A heart attack on someone so young...such a shame. And with no prior medical history of the sort either."

"Make room for the Fives and Dogma," Padmé said, shooting her sling to catapult her to another level above, followed quickly by both Jedi. She sensed that they were close to the base, though the enemy fire had ceased for the most part. Thank Shiraya for Anakin. "Yes, it is quite the shame. Jamillia honored all of Naboo with her service. I believe had she lived, she would have surpassed me in both reputation and deeds." With that, the Sith Lady disappeared into the heights above.

"Your humility is most charming," Obi-Wan mumbled to himself before following her up the cliffs. Upon reaching the fort, followed closely by the vanguard of the 501st, Obi-Wan found a trail of fried clankers and dead mercenaries alike, most of the latter having seen their fatal blows before a blade rather than blaster fire. Far ahead, barely visible through the smoke, were the fleeting flashes of red, green, and blue marking the twin lightsabers of the sith, and Obi-Wan propelled his running with the Force to catch up. He found Padmé first, stabbing one blade down into a bunker amidst the screams of the defenders inside, while at the same time raising an outstretched hand to collapse the ceiling of the neighboring bunker into itself.

"I read up on the autopsy," he screamed, his voice barely audible through the trembling murmur of battle. "Scant details, really. Surprising for such a public figure...a head of state at that."

"Her majesty was a private woman," Padmé shouted back, the annoyance on her face evident as she cut the heads off of three bounty hunters with one stroke before leaping onto another defensive barrier. Obi-Wan followed closely behind. "To Queen Jamillia, Naboo came first, she her humble servant."

"I hear you took in her chief handmaiden, Dormé's was her name?"

"The poor woman found herself unexpectedly in need of employment," Padmé said through gritted teeth. Ducking and deflecting the blaster fire around her, she screamed angrily at Obi-Wan, "Shiraya be damned, make yourself useful Jedi and give me some cover! I have not survived years under Sidious to have my head taken off by a damned half-wit hunk of metal!"

Doing as he was told, Obi-Wan could not help but retort, "my apologies, Darth. Clearly as a Jedi I must ensure to the life and limbs of a Sith..."

Padmé breathed a sigh of relief with Vos jumped into the fray. "Considering our current predicament, I think we're beyond such labels."

"I know," Padmé exclaimed with exaggerated sarcasm. "Labels are soooo out of vogue...like soooo pre-Ruusan."

Though they were all distracted by the ongoing battle, all three Force-Sensitives could feel the blinding presence of the Chosen One suddenly appear next to them, the trademark grin still tracing his face.

"Ladies, I understand right about now is high tea hour on Alderaan standard time, but I could appreciate some help once you're finished chit-chatting."

"You seem to have things well in hand." Obi-Wan almost shook his head, wondering how Anakin could maintain his levity in the heat of a battle. Perhaps it was the impetuousness of youth, unfazed by fear and experience, made to feel invincible from his ridiculous power and potential. The boy was a Sith too, Obi-Wan had to constantly remind himself, irredeemably tainted by the Dark Side, so of course he would enjoy chaos and death. Even if he did so in almost an innocent, childlike manner.

"Well, I'm a natural at this," Anakin remarked nonchalantly, pivoting backwards to ward off some of the droids coming at their left flank.

"Natural at war," Obi-Wan remarked, raising one eyebrow. "Must be a Sith thing."

"You Jedi aren't so bad at it yourself. Considering the history of our Orders, and how the Jedi ended up atop the Republic in the first place...I'd even go as far to say that the Jedi are the undisputed  _masters_  of war, considering that we the Sith are historical losers." Anakin turned his blue eyes at Obi-Wan, and the older man could not tell whether the naivete the boy was projecting was genuine or some kind of act or deception.

Ignoring the boy's taunts, Obi-Wan adopted a neutral tone. "We protect, but we do not revel in war. Besides, and not to downplay the brave acts of our forebearers and, but in the end it was the Sith Order that destroyed itself...or so we believed at least.

"True," Anakin said, contemplating his response. "But we were pushed to that point due to the pressures of a war that we were losing. To the Jedi."

"I wonder what kind of history you've been learning..."

As she strode calmly through the secret tunnel by herself, Padmé thanked the Gods for the billionth time for her luck. Despite the prominent role the Hutts had played in his childhood, Anakin had selflessly distracted the doddering Jedi away from her on the battlefield, giving her the opportunity to enjoy finishing off the enemy in her own special way. He would have enjoyed it just as much, but they both knew that she needed it more at the moment.

Cutting into the durasteel door with her dual blades, she laughed at the thought that the Hutt clans would believe themselves safe behind such a paltry barrier. A light Force shove did the trick after she had cut a circle through, and Padmé savored the collective fear, thick in the throne room and feeling as if it were about to burst.

"It's her, the Sith witch..."

"How dare you intrude mortal..."

"Please, I will make you wealthy beyond what you can imagine..."

The reception was varied from the varies Hutt clan lords, and Padmé ignored both the threats and the attempts at bribery. Spotting two Hutts cowering in the back corner, she set her lightsabers back into her belt and reached out with both hands, lifting the two crime lords up in the air. Fear turned to terror and then into sheer pain and agony as she crushed the two against each other, the invisible pressure against their bulbous bodies distorting them into unspeakable shapes until both screamed one last primal yell of agony as their internal organs burst outwards under the pressure, exploding massive gobs of flesh, blood, and other fluids all across the throne room and onto all their brethren.

Having kept all the debris off her own body with a Force barrier save for one drop of blood on her forehead, Padmé wiped it gently off her head and onto her robe with one finger, and surveyed the room with cruel, unfeeling yellow eyes.

"Consider them lucky," she hissed. "They enjoyed the least painful deaths out of everyone gathered here."

Frozen in fear, none of the remaining Hutts could even muster out another word.

* * *

"I like stars sometimes," the Consular said in a soft voice belying her authority. "I find they shine greater after a victory."

Rex glanced over at his commanders. Skywalker was charmingly stoic as always, the same demeanor before, during, or after a course of battle. The Consular he was most keen to observe however. It was clear that command suited her, a savvy field general who had guided them to success in both the Zygerrian and Hutt campaigns. General Skywalker, whose skills he had previously thought unequaled, clearly deferred to his wife in every manner on, and likely off, the battlefield. For good reason too...the Consular's Jedi skills were equal to her husband or any Jedi. Though she was not a Jedi, a technicality to be sure, but Rex wasn't quite sure how all that religious stuff yet.

"With all due respect Consular, they look the same to me. Though I sure as hells feel better staring at them after a victory."

"I remember the nights gazing upon them as a child, camping out in the woods with my family." She had spoken to her parents several times since the Sith revelation, their reactions to her true nature ranging from anger to sadness to sympathy and, of course, guilt. Needless guilt, she wanted to say. Ruwee and Jobal were upstanding citizens of Naboo...and would have been completely helpless before Sidious were he to deem them threats. Padmé herself remembered the early years of her training, how she had spent her teenage years simultaneously trapped in Sidious's shop of horrors, and fervently shielding her family from the truth for the sake of their own safety. Sola will always be Sola, but Padmé wondered whether her relationship with her parents would ever be the same.

At least she had a childhood, she thought, however brief was, it had been happy. And though Anakin began life as a slave, and despite all the Sith training she truly had done her best to make the remaining years of his childhood a happy one, before be grew into a teenager and young man under her tutelage. Studying the clones sitting across the fire from her and Anakin, Rex, Fives, and Dogma, a realization came to her.

"I'm sorry that the right to a childhood was denied to you and your brothers," she said solemnly. "Master Sifo-Dyas was a good friend, and he did what he thought right at the time. I am thankful, because his actions ten years ago saved the Alliance before it existed. But I don't think he gave much consideration as to the full moral implications of his actions."

Fives shrugged. "I don't know anything different. None of us do, I guess. I like kids though." The young clone smiled. "They are innocent. I won't ever know what that's like, but I'm not going to fret over it."

"Childhood was denied us," Rex added. "But in its place we have our brotherhood. That means something to me, to all of us."

"The war will soon be over," Anakin said, grabbing a handful of dirt and tossing it aimlessly into the fire. "We will ensure a place in the galaxy for all of your brothers in the coming peace. It is more than deserved."

"With all due respect General, I'm meant to serve." Rex frowned. "We were created for it."

"Service will always be required to keep the galaxy safe," Padmé answered. "Those who wish to stay in the army may continue to do so. While I hope there will be less wars to come, conflict will always require an answer so that we do not lose the peace, or the principles we fought for."

"But you are sentients, not machines," Anakin continued. "You may be surprised at what you are capable of."

"Many of you would make for fine, very capable administrators," Padmé said. "More than that though, life never fails to surprise. Maybe Fives here finds a passion in the arts. Or Dogma, a politician."

Fives burst into laughter. "This guy? A Senator? That will be the day."

"When that day comes, Fives, you have my permission to paint my official portrait," Dogma retorted.

"Peace will be a challenge for many of us," Padmé mused, looking up again wistfully at the stars. "But I have no doubt you will rise to the occasion with the same vigor and pride as you have in war."

* * *

"Master Kenobi," Bail Organa rose to greet the arriving Jedi from his office on Hosnian Prime. "A pleasure to see you. Unexpected, but a pleasure nonetheless."

Obi-Wan bowed politely. "Consular Organa. Consular Mothma."

"We have received word from Consular Amidala on the successful completion of the latest siege on Nal Hutta," Mothma said, standing and matching Obi-Wan's bow. "I congratulate you on yet another victory."

"A success, to be sure. But only peace will mark true victory in this unfortunate civil war." Taking a seat, Obi-Wan took out his comm. "I believe you received the latest peace overtures from the Republic."

Organa scoffed. "Honestly, Master Jedi, they are farces, no more than that. No actual compromise is possible with the Supreme Chancellor."

"We are winning this war," Mon added. "I can only surmise Gunray's overtures are made purely for the sake of publicity. Or worse, to lull us into in a false sense of complacency before one last desperate gasp."

"All true." The Jedi cocked his head. "But what if the Chancellor were to leave the picture?"

"Is that a realistic possibility," Organa asked, confused.

Obi-Wan activated his comm, and the distasteful visage of Tub'r Fafi appeared.

_"Master Jedi, I send my greetings. I do not begrudge the actions of yourself or many of your colleagues on behalf of the Alliance. Grave mistakes have been made on both sides for us to have arrived at our present juncture. But I believe we have more in common than you suspect._

_Both sides are led at its head by fanatics, ideologues for whom compromise is impossible. I believe I need not educate you, Master Kenobi, on Chancellor Gunray's lapses in judgment...or the true nature and history of the Sith Order. While the fanatics remain in charge, there can be no true or lasting peace. But I believe that there remains those like us on both sides of this conflict, men and women to whom reason is still not yet out of reach._

_It behooves us to ask the question then, whether much can be accomplished were we to eliminate the extremes and form a coalition of the reasonable. After all, it was not so long ago that, despite our disagreements and imperfections, we stood together as one Republic, proud of our shared history and traditions. We split in two due to the actions of fanatics, but the damage is not irreversible._

_I have, on my end, the will and means to do the right thing, to right my wrongs."_

The transmission ended abruptly, and Mon Mothma's face lit up in delight. "This is wonderful, Master Kenobi! Fafi's arrogance has finally ruined him. Once we release this footage, Gunray's regime may very well devour itself."

"That is true," Obi-Wan stated. "But I believe we should give more thought to the course of action Senator Fafi is suggesting."

Bail Organa frowned, indignation creeping into his voice. "Surely you are not suggesting that we listen to this poor excuse for a Senator? That we stage a coup against our own on merely his word?!"

"Not a coup," Obi-Wan correctly, "merely an exercise of your legal powers and might I say, duties, as Consulars. I agree, Senator Fafi is no beacon of virtue, and we will have to be wary of his every move. But the galaxy is no utopia, and we must work with the best options available to us."

"You also ask us to betray our trusted colleague," Mon protested. "And a good friend. And for what? A compromise that alleviates the injustices and evil we have fought so hard to defeat?"

"What do you truly know of Amidala," Obi-Wan asked pointedly. "She hid her abilities from you for many years, to begin with. If your entire relationship with her started with a lie, how much of what she has said to you since can you really believe?"

"Could it be you are biased, Master Jedi." Organa still frowned, but Obi-Wan sensed more anxiety and conflict within the man than he let on. "I understand this grudge between Jedi and Sith date back centuries."

Obi-Wan sighed thoughtfully. "It is true, I was raised to shun the Sith and the Dark Side. A Sith killed my master, a man I would almost consider my father. But remember, I volunteered to assist Alliance  _after_  Amidala's revelation. I came with an open mind, willing to believe her, that the Order has changed. What drives me I do not believe to be bias, but a compilation of factual observations."

"Explain," Mothma said coldly.

"I will be blunt. Wherever Amidala goes, death and chaos follows. The campaign on Nal Hutta saw the deaths of nearly every single leading Hutt clan member along with their councillor advisers."

"I have read the reports," Mon said, pulling them up on her datapad. "They were unfortunate casualties of battle. Or accidents, such as the gas explosion...or the cave in...or the flood..."

Her voice trailed off as she reviewed each of the official reports on the demise of the Hutt elders, and sensing her growing doubt, Obi-Wan continued pressing. "A pattern of coincidences is inevitably just that...a pattern. You can take away the coincidence and the chance."

"This is all speculation," Bail said, shaking his head uncomfortably. "While I agree the evidence seems disquieting, you have no proof."

"I have what I have personally witnessed," Obi-Wan countered. "I was present in the throne room on Zygerria. Anakin slaughtered their Prime Minister in cold blood, in front of myself and General Rex. Consular Amidala was seconds away from doing the same to their queen until I intervened."

"If what you are saying is true," Mon said, "then General Skywalker has committed a grave crime. Why did you not report this immediately?"

Bail looked over at his fellow Consular. "He wanted to lead them further, clearly. See how far they would go."

"It is true, I did not act perfectly according to protocol," Obi-Wan admitted. "But these are strange times. And despite all this, I did not believe she would go so far as to murder an innocent. But I have one last piece of evidence to show you."

He pulled out a datapad of his own and handed it over to the Consulars. "A transmission was made from Naboo the morning Queen Jamillia allegedly died from a heart attack. It communicated the Queen's directive to her ambassadors, instructing them to initiate Naboo's exit from the Alliance and commence negotiations to return to the Republic. This transmission was later deleted from the official records in Theed, but I was able to get the best slicers within the Jedi Temple to extract it from the Senate records. Unfortunately there is little more I can prove, considering Naboo is in a virtual state of lockdown these days, practically the personal fiefdom of Amidala since the Queen's passing. But that in itself should be revealing for the same reasons."

"More circumstantial evidence..." Bail said hesitatingly.

"But a such a substantial amount of it," Mon added, the distress clear on her face. She looked over to Bail. "I always thought the death of Queen Jamillia strange. She was so young, and had no prior medical history. This transmission...I'm afraid...may lead us down a path we find unpleasant."

"The truth can be harsh," Obi-Wan continued, "which makes it even more imperative that we do not ignore it. Additionally, the autopsy was closed and the resulting reports sealed from the public. Add to all this the fact that those who conducted the autopsy, Queen Jamillia's chief handmaidens, now find themselves in Amidala's employ."

"I thought it a generous gesture at the time," Bail said, shaking his head sadly. "It appears we all may have been too naive."

"Amidala used your rightful distaste for the Chancellor's abuses of power," Obi-Wan concluded, knowing that he had successfully made his taste. "She has masterfully wielded the better hopes and righteous sentiments of the entire galaxy, its opposition to horrible things like slavery and corruption, for the sake of amplifying her own power. But look what follows Amidala throughout her entire career? Death. From Chancellor Valorum and Senator Palpatine ten years ago...to the deaths of the entire ruling council on Ryloth in yet another accidental casualty of battle. Nal Hutta. Zygerria. The murder of her own Queen. These are merely the ones we know of, yet more than enough to establish the pattern. Not only do the Sith kill, but they target most those who sit at the highest seats of power."

He let the words marinate in the room, both Consulars temporarily speechless.

"You're suggesting she is willing to kill us once the war is over," Bail asked.

"I know the two of you are both noble politicians. You are what Amidala pretends to be, and you will both sacrifice your lives for the greater good. But I doubt you wish to offer yourselves at the altar of the next Sith tyrant, for the sake of her power."

Regaining his composure, Bail Organa rose, as if to escort Obi-Wan out of the office. "Master Kenobi, I thank you for your time. It appears Consular Mothma and I have...much to discuss."

"I thank you for listening to me with open minds," Obi-Wan said, bowing before he started out. "And I trust we will be seeing more of each other in the coming days."


	11. Chapter 11

"I don't know, Obi-Wan. I just don't know."

Their debate involving just mere looks and expressions at times, both Jedi shook their heads in exasperation in the parlor of their small suite on Hosnian Prime, several floors up from the Consular accommodations. Sitting down onto the couch as if he were exhausted by the disagreement, Quinlan Vos shook his head.

"It's the mission," Obi-Wan pressed, looming over his friend. "You can't question the evidence at this point! Amidala and the boy are steeped in the Dark Side, and they have proven they are willing to use it to murder friend and foe alike."

"I'm not questioning that," Quinlan said, dropping his face into his hands. He knew the moment of truth would arrive at some point on their mission, he just hoped it would not have been so soon. "They are Siths, so what else can you expect?"

"I don't get what your hangup is then. Bail and Mon have agreed implicitly to help us. Fafi gets rid of Gunray, Bail and Mon vote to negotiate regardless of what Amidala says, we agree to a favorable location, the Jedi stand ready there, we arrest the Consular, and peace is restored in the galaxy."

Quinlan looked critically at his friend. "You are blinded by the mission," Quinlan said, choosing his words carefully. "Ignoring the fact that this involves an unconscionable interference into galactic politics unprecedented since Ruusan...I mean...there are so many things that can go wrong here. What if Amidala boycotts the negotiations? Who knows what she will do, backed into a corner?"

"Let her then," Obi-Wan shrugged coldly. "No more of her acting...let the galaxy see her as the aspiring despot she truly is. But that will not happen. She will be there. She knows she has to show. Amidala cannot resist not having her say in the matter, or more likely, she will see it as a chance to sabotage the negotiations firsthand. Either way though, the alliance between, well, the Alliance, and the Sith is history, and the divide within the Republic,  _and_  our Order, will be bridged."

"Do you even know how Fafi is planning to depose the Chancellor?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I think the less we know the better, considering that I doubt the Senator conducts things entirely within the frame of the Constitution."

Unsatisfied with any of his answers, Quinlan continued to gnaw on his fingers. "What if Skywalker doesn't accompany his wife? The Hutt resistance is surprisingly strong. Skywalker is a General, not a politician. We capture one Sith, yet the more powerful apprentice is still free to roam the Galaxy and plot his revenge."

"I'm actually banking on that," Obi-Wan said with a smile, surprising Quinlan. "What do the ancient stratagems say? Divide and conquer. Skywalker and Amidala are strong together. Separate them, and we risk less casualties with the arrest. You recall what happened on Takodana." Walking over to the viewport, he looked ponderously at the cityscape outside. "Besides, Amidala is the mastermind. Cut off from her, the boy will be lost."

Realization dawned in Quinlan's eyes as he looked to his friend in disbelief. "You think you can still save the boy, is that it? All this planning a caper just so you can regain your lost apprentice."

Obi-Wan shook his head sadly. "Skywalker will never be a Jedi. That door has long closed, considering it was barely open to begin with. But he is far less ingrained in the Dark Side compared to Amidala. However she has twisted him, it seems nowhere close to what Sidious did to her. Both of them may stand a chance to be rehabilitated, true, but Amidala is the leader, and Skywalker a follower."

"No." Quinlan stood up sharply, his voice and tone forcing his friend to turn and face him. "I cannot stand for this. Not only will I not participate, I am urging you to reconsider."

Backing up in shock, Obi-Wan braced himself. "I don't believe. Are you going to fight me on this, Quin?"

"Of course not. I will not stand in your way. And for the sake of our friendship, and  _only_  our friendship, I will not tell Amidala or Skywalker about this conspiracy. But I say this, as a friend, as a confidante...as someone whose judgment I hope you trust and value...this is not the way."

"I see," Obi-Wan said, his demeanor suddenly shielded. "You're going the path of Sifo-Dyas and Dooku, then?"

"I don't know, Obi-Wan." He paced the room, trying to gather his thoughts into words. "This just  _feels_  right. My entire life as a Jedi, never had I had a mission or assignment that has been this...rewarding. This satisfying. The looks on the faces of all the slaves we are freeing, the families, mothers and children we reunite...I can understand their cause, their zeal. Even if it can be...somewhat extreme...at times, the good they are doing, the good that  _we all_  accomplished together...it simply outweighs their evils."

"This is a slippery slope, Quinlan."

"You don't need to lecture me on slippery slopes, Obi-Wan, we all took the same youngling classes." The words came out of Quinlan's mouth in anger, surprising them both. He quickly released his frustrations into the Force, then continued evenly. "Besides, I think it's a bad idea to separate the two. Light or Dark, the Force sings when they are together. I fear the consequences of what you're planning."

"You are letting your emotions dictate your course of action," Obi-Wan said calmly, trying not to unwittingly offend or insult his friend. "Clear your head, take some time to meditate on it..."

"My mind has never been clearer," Quinlan replied back, equally calm. "And I am far from alone in the Jedi Order in this."

"And I will not forget the innocent lives taken, lives like Queen Jamillia, or Luminara, who sat in the same creche classes as you and I. We cannot trade death for life. We cannot take baby steps down the road of darkness, however right each increment may appear."

"We will not agree," Quinlan said, moving to leave the suite.

"Our paths diverge now," Obi-Wan said, more as a statement than a question.

Quinlan looked back at him, a kindred spirit ever since they were younglings in the Temple. Though Obi-Wan would never admit it, there was supplication in his eyes, asking Quinlan to reconsider, if not as a Jedi, then as a friend. Quinlan nodded.

"I don't know how it has come to this. But I depart in peace."

"May the Force be with you then, old friend," Obi-Wan said sadly, whispering the last two words.

"May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

* * *

The Senate halls were eerily quiet as Ahsoka crept through the darkened corridors. It was fitting, she thought, that this was how politics were conducted during these last days of Nute Gunray's regime: in the shadows. Fafi had all but admitted it himself, telling her that most of their real decisions were made not in the chambers of the Senate, where little meaningful legislature was being proposed and passed by the mostly now indigent legislators, but late at night, after all the Senators and their aides and retinues had departed. When Fafi, Amedda, and the Chancellor hammered out the course of the war and all the rest of the matters governing a Republic, if any of those words could still be used honestly, entailed.

" _It's mostly me and Mas making the decisions anyway,_ " Fafi had said to her during a clandestine meeting in the lower levels earlier that day. " _I'm afraid the Chancellor's lost his bearings a long time ago. We listen to his rantings and ravings, we try to curb the worst of it, honestly. Of course, there's some things he is determined to have to get his way on. The public execution of that poor Naboo girl for one. All the treasury credits being diverted to Trade Federation accounts, the wholesale embezzlement and conquering planets and milking their resources stuff, yeah, he's a stickler for all that. But you should realize that we've prevented far worse. He's proposed quite a few mass executions of entire planets he suspects, not always without cause, is sympathetic towards the Alliance. He gets these big enslave everyone kicks, too. But let him have few billion more credits here and there, and he tends to forget the mass murder stuff. For the most part anyways. There's been some things we couldn't help. Corellia, Sern Prime, Mimban, Kashyyyk..._ "

It occurred as she listened to the old Senator's ramblings that maybe Fafi had some semblance of a conscience after all, or else why would he bother trying to justify and rationalize so much of his crimes to a teenager like herself. Perhaps he did feel guilty for the role he played in all this, the deaths and destructions in so many of the Republic's own worlds, not to mention the complete fracture of the Republic and the Jedi Order. Maybe he actually did want to right some of his wrongs. She doubted it though. Politicians like Fafi were always out for their own benefit, and someone as crafty as him were astute enough to sense which way the wind was blowing.

The Alliance was winning the war, that much was clear. Fafi and his crew could either go down with the ship, or they could grab a lifeline and try to weasel their way out through a negotiated peace. Ahsoka didn't give a kriff about what befell their lot. To her, Gunray was the problem, he always had been. Let the politicians sort out their own messes. Gunray would never surrender, but by helping Fafi take him out, she could single-handedly prevent what would likely be the bloody endgame of the war: a catastrophic siege of Coruscant.

" _Security is minimal at these meetings, obviously, since we don't want to risk any eavesdroppers listening in. Only a few droids guarding the Chancellor's office, something I'd imagine is easy pickings for a Jedi. He will be expecting myself and Amedda at 2122 standard hours. Of course, give us the word, and we can arrange to be...truant._ "

She inched her way along the wall as she approached the Chancellor's office, feeling the presences of a small squadron of droids beyond. Taking a deep breath, she leaped into the lobby, slashing several droids in half before any of them had a chance to register her attack. Rolling onto the ground, she sent a gentle Force shove down towards the Chancellor's office, sending two more droids crashing into the doors, before deflecting the return fire to disable the last of the droids. Standing up, she brushed off her shoulders and opened the doors to the Chancellor's office.

"What is meaning here," Gunray asked angrily, his buggy eyes widening to a comically impossible degree. "Who are you? Prostitute? I told Fafi meeting first, whore after! Always whore after meeting, this is his rule, not mine!"

Lighting both her blades, she pointed them forward at the Neimoidian. "Chancellor Gunray, by the authority of the Jedi Order, you are under arrest."

"Treason! Treason! Treason!" The Chancellor screamed at the top of his lungs in a frequency so high, it even jolted Ahsoka momentarily. As she moved towards him to apprehend the Chancellor, she her the footsteps of more droids approaching the office. Pivoting, she deftly deflected several more blasts at the unwanted intruders, but not before Nute Gunray had a chance to evade her as he scrambled towards the outer lobby.

"Kriffing Neimoidian," she muttered, marveling at how fast the lumbering frame of the Chancellor moved when he was fleeing in fear. She gave chase, catching up to him in the hallway, when the Chancellor tripped and fell over a disabled droid.

"Dying! I dying! Weep for me oh galaxy, I surrender my peaceful soul to thee..."

Ahsoka kicked lightly at the prone frame of Nute Gunray. Hearing more footsteps approaching and sensing it was Fafi, she disabled her weapons and turned to face the obese Senator, who gestured for her towards the Chancellor's office.

"I think he fainted from fear when I was about to arrest him," Ahsoka said once they were inside. "I'm pretty sure he soiled himself too."

To her surprise, her words elicited anger from the Senator.

"Arrest him? I thought you were going to kill him!"

"What? No! A Jedi does not murder in cold blood...no matter how much  _some_  people may deserve it."

Fafi sighed in exasperation, shaking his head. "I knew I shouldn't have entrusted all this to a child," he muttered, walking back into the lobby, where more footsteps were clambered closer. Within seconds, a coterie of Senate Guards entered the office.

"Arrest her," he ordered to the captain of the guards, pointing at the young Padawan.

"For what," Ahsoka yelled indignantly, hands ready to grab her lightsabers. "I was just..."

"Attempting to assassinate the Supreme Chancellor. I'm afraid she has gone insane." Fafi started backing his way out of the office. "Show caution. She may be in league with the Sith, possessed by a Dark Side."

For a moment Ahsoka had decided to fight back, slash her way out of this mess. But then she realized that these Senate Guards were merely following orders. She couldn't kill them, especially seeing as she couldn't have even brought herself to kill the Chancellor.

"I surrender," she said, raising her hands in the air. Hopefully everything could be sorted out once Master Fisto heard about this.

* * *

"I see that I am outvoted in this measure," Padmé said calmly, even though she knew the argument was lost before the meeting ever started.

"Bail and I understand your concerns, Consular Amidala," Mon's holo said diplomatically. "However, it must be stressed that our favorable strategic position extends both militarily and diplomatically."

"Our goals have always been the peaceful reunification of the Republic," Bail added, "not its conquest. If there is a chance this peace may be achieved without war, then we are bound to pursue that path."

"Do you really believe Fafi and Amedda will negotiate in good faith? They are tasting power for the first time. Both have committed innumerable crimes to reach this point...do you really think they will let it all go without a fight?"

"I do not doubt they will fight," Bail said. "They have no chance of winning outright, so they will try to undermine us during the negotiations. Try as they might to entrap us, we are not stepping into the gundark's nest unaware."

"There are options on the table palatable to all," Mon said. "Let Fafi keep his ill-gotten fortunes. Let Amedda keep his seat in the Senate, perhaps even as a minority Councilor..."

"And let their crimes go unpunished," Padmé asked indignantly. "Let their followers see our leniency towards the corruption and vice that got us here in the first place, and reunite the Republic under the same flawed foundation we pretended to ignore before these Clone Wars?"

"Last I checked, this is still a democracy," Mon scolded angrily, the first time she had ever raised her voice against her colleague from Naboo. "We cannot simply wipe out one half of the Senate's elected representatives just because they are not saints. The Senate is flawed because the galaxy is flawed, so has it always been. We've learned our mistakes, the cost being the blood and lives of thousands. Is that not enough, or must we seek to punish anyone who has ever stood against us? Is it reconciliation we seek, Padmé? Or is it blood?"

Taking a deep breath, Padmé backed down. Of course she wanted blood, but not was not the time to reveal her true intentions. "Your wisdom is beyond question, Consular Mothma. Though my objections remain, I accept the decision of the Tri-Consulate."

She turned off the transmission, and looked sadly at Anakin, whose barely simmering rage she could feel through their bond.

"You can't go along with this," he protested.

"I have no choice," Padmé answered softly, though her mind continued to race. "A temper tantrum will do nothing for our optics."

The room shook as cannon fire rained upon nearby embankments below. The battle still raged on, husband and wife leading the 501st to quell yet another insurrection on Nar Shaddaa, a moon where many of the surviving Hutt oligarchs had fled to regroup. The urban warfare breaking out below was more intense, more critical, with less margin for error, and every minute they were engaged in petty political trifling was valuable time wasted away from the counterinsurgency.

"I have a bad feeling about this," he said slowly, while studying the reports from the battle. "Bail and Mon Mothma...something seems off about them."

"They are shielded," Padmé agreed. "I know they have been wary of us since the revelation, but not this much. Something has changed."

"The Jedi," Anakin snarled. "We let them in. They turned them against us. That was their plan all along."

"You may not be wrong," Padmé conceded. "If so, then we are outmaneuvered on this play."

Everything had been going according to plan until some rash Padawan attempted to kill the Chancellor. From everything her sources were saying, Coruscant was a mess right now: Gunray was in a coma, the Jedi Padawan in the custody of the Senate Guard, and the Jedi were denying culpability or knowledge in the matter...the only certainty was that Fafi and Amedda had taken charge in the interim of both the Senate and Nute Gunray's droid army. It seemed rather odd to her how Bail and Mon had conveniently dismissed the likely unsavory ways in which Fafi gained his power. From her own standpoint, Padmé had been initially happy that Gunray was still alive; she always planned to end his life herself. She would curse the rash Jedi girl who tried to take that away from her, if she didn't admit to admiring her boldness, her willingness to act amidst the indecision of the Council.

"This is a trap," Anakin said, his eyes shifting between blue and yellow. "I'm certain of it. And you'll step into it because of  _optics_?"

"We got this far because of optics," Padmé replied despondently. "We are not Sidious. For us to rule by force without mass bloodshed, we must hold and maintain the support of the people."

"Then screw it all. Let's fight back."

"That road will see the massacres of millions. Mass enslavement, because we failed to persuade. I may be far gone...but I'm not that far gone. Are you?"

It took him some time to answer. When he did, he surprisingly found himself calmer than before. "No. We haven't come this far to become slavers ourselves."

Watching his wife walk over to him and almost fall into his arms broke his heart. He had never seen her so helpless before, not even after Jamillia's death.

"I'm afraid, Ani. I must go to Coruscant. You must continue the siege here. I don't know what to do."

Her admission scared him to the core. "I am...so afraid." Instinctively, he clutched her tighter. "Surely there's something...some action we can take..."

"If it's a trap, then spring it," Padmé said after a long period of thought, her voice muffled as she spoke into Anakin's chest. "To quote Bail, we are not stepping into it unknowingly. We will not be unprepared. Let them have this round. But we will not give into this. We  _will_  strike back."

"You have a plan," Anakin asked, hope creeping into his voice.

"Not yet. But I have faith that we will come up with something. Together."

"I love you," Anakin gasped. There was no need to hide the panic in his voice from his own wife. "I can't lose you."

"You won't," Padmé said, lifting her lips greedily to capture Anakin's. Lost in their kiss, Anakin wondered whether or not her words were based on faith alone.


	12. Chapter 12

For all her skills in foresight, this was not the Coruscant homecoming she had anticipated. Padmé stared down through the cityscape as her ship cruised down onto the Senate platform, all the surrounding buildings and even the top of the Senate dome obscured by a dense fog. The low clouds created for her a false sense of reality, allowing her the opportunity to pretend that this was not really Coruscant...that she had not been forced back to essentially the heart of her enemy's territory and virtually against her will. Anakin would say she was moping, having confined herself to her own quarters for the entire trip, but she could not feign cheer towards her handmaidens, and there was no point in bringing them down with her mood.

Feeling the impact as her craft landed, she stiffened herself, took one last look at herself in her mirror, and straightened her dark green choker. If she was going down, she was going to look good doing it, adorned in one of her favorite dresses, a long, elegant shawl with light and dark shades of green, orange, and yellow interspersed elegantly alongside each other, a tableau reminding her of the beauty of her native Naboo and the Lake Country. Hardening her expressions until her face resembled a stone monument, Padmé emerged icily out onto the landing pad, forcing herself to look her conniving colleagues in the eyes. Bail Organa and Mon Mothma, awaiting her below, bowed politely next to their loyal Jedi companion, nay lapdog, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Her colleagues' minds were shielded ever heavily, and she strongly suspected that they were getting help from the Jedi in that regard.

"Consular Amidala, welcome back to Coruscant." Bail Organa greeted, his voice more stiff than usual, and while she gave him her hand to kiss, she wondered if the Obi-Wan was going to attack her here and now in the open.

Nothing yet, so she nodded to Mon and Obi-Wan, barely acknowledging them. "Mon. Obi-Wan. I assume you will brief me on our objectives for the negotiations?"

The young Consular from Chandrila forced out a smile, as if trying to lighten the mood. "Of course. But I am famished. So many restaurants I missed this past year. Any in particular you're looking forward to, Padmé?"

"I came here to work, not to eat," Padmé responded coldly, avoiding the urge to roll her eyes. She also restrained herself from the urge to strike first at Obi-Wan and catch him unawares. But he was probably just as much on edge as her. Besides, it would not look good this trap was just a product of her paranoia and she attacked him unprovoked...not a likely scenario, but not worth the risk just yet. She also did not want to say out loud that she really did miss the food at Dex's. Obi-Wan was a connoisseur of that charming diner as well, and at this point Padmé wanted to avoid as much awkward small talk as possible. Her only consolation was the knowledge now that her acting skills far exceeded those of Bail and Mon's.

"Consular Amidala," Obi-Wan said evenly, "I believe the Interim Chancellor is awaiting us."

Not bothering with protocol, Padmé walked past her retinue, turning her backs to them to forge ahead alone towards the Senate entrance. Her senses heightened, she awaited that painful, burning sensation in her back. Would the Jedi strike her down in such a cowardly way now? No. Obi-Wan was a lot of things, but he possessed the dignity of facing her as he did murder. Force, she missed Anakin. Recalling her time spent on this planet before the Clone Wars, a lifetime ago it seemed, she had never felt so alone on the crowded planet.

Padmé knew it was over the moment she walked inside the main lobby, where Fafi and Amedda awaited, alongside Mace Windu and almost a dozen Jedi, some of them remaining members of the High Council on Coruscant, others more obscure ones she did not recognize.

The new Interim Chancellor of the Republic stepped forward. "Consulars. Master Obi-Wan. I welcome you to back to our capital world. I have full faith our negotiations will be fruitful and complete."

Padmé walked along the row of Jedi standing in line besides Fafi, looking each of them in the eye, daring them to move, react, or just blink. None bit. She ended her procession before Mace.

"Master Windu," she said politely. "I see the negotiations will be secured by the Jedi? Most unnecessary, I assure you."

She felt Obi-Wan move into place behind her. "Chancellor Fafi has handed over full control of the Droid Army to the Jedi Order. The building is secure, and the negotiations will not require your presence."

"We are here for you, Consular Amidala," Mace said coldly. "I hope, with respect for the sanctity of the Senate building, that you will surrender your weapons and accompany us to the Temple without making a scene."

"You are outnumbered," Obi-Wan added rather gratuitously. "There are dozens of Jedi backing us up outside. You simply cannot escape. I hope there will be no unnecessary bloodshed."

"I'm flattered," Padmé said, laughing angrily, "that you would call nearly half the temple here to subdue me." She turned to Bail and Mon, who both averted their eyes from her. "This treachery I expect from the likes of Fafi and the Jedi. But I suppose I was naive to expect true loyalty in this world, even from my closest friends."

"You betrayed us with your actions," Bail said, and she sensed that part of him was still conflicted about his actions. "And your crimes."

"I ask you to list..."

Obi-Wan interrupted her. "Your trial will come, and it will be fair, I assure you. But this is neither the time nor place."

"Fine," Padmé spat. She took out both her lightsabers an dropped them onto the floor.

"Hands out where I can see them," Obi-Wan said, not falling for any possible ruse. Padmé grudgingly obliged, and did not flinch when Obi-Wan slapped a pair of Force binders around her wrists. She nevertheless smirked when the venerable Mace Windu himself had to bend downwards onto the floor to pick up her lightsabers. Unfortunately, Fafi interrupted the little satisfaction she could arrive from the arrest.

"Consulars Organa and Mothma, it is not my place to tell you what you should do, but I believe you have more urgent business to conclude before our negotiations begin."

"Ah yes," Bail said. He pulled out his comm and entered several codes, summoning the holo-images of the Alliance's two foremost ranking officers, Generals Skywalker and Rex.

"General Rex," he said, his voice sharp with authority.

"Consulars," Rex answered curtly. "What is your order of business?" He frowned. "I do not see Consular Amidala. Is she away?"

"Consular Amidala has been charged with crimes against the peace and turned over to the custody of the Jedi Order. General Skywalker?"

To everyone's surprise, the young Sith did not explode on the spot, though his rage was clear in his blue eyes, his nostrils flaring with every breath. "I hope this is a sick joke, Bail."

"There is nothing funny about this, and I will ignore your implicit threat against us," Mon retorted with more courage than she thought she possessed. "Anakin Skywalker, you are relieved of your rank and duties, effective immediately. A warrant has been placed for your arrest for the murder of Prime Minister Atai Molec of Zygerria, a prisoner of war at the time of his death. I suggest you turn yourself in."

"Or what," Anakin snarled, startling the Consulars as his eyes flared to a sickly yellow. "What will you do if I resist these baseless charges?"

"You will be branded a fugitive by the Alliance, by the Republic, and by the Jedi Order," Bail challenged back. Proper politician he might have been, the older man clearly did not take kindly to being threatened.

"General Rex," Mon said, "the 501st will apprehend Anakin Skywalker and secure him. You and the other battalions will report immediately to Coruscant, where you will be placed under the authority of the Jedi."

"But Consular...," Rex said, the young clone shaken to his core by these new orders, "we are engaged on Nar Shaddaa..."

"Nar Shaddaa can wait," Mon interrupted. "This is a matter of the highest priority."

Immediately wiping off his defiant expression, the clone general answered his superior reluctantly. "Understood, Consular."

"A coup by the Jedi against both the Republic and the Alliance," Padmé sneered as the transmissions came to an end. "And you condemn us Sith. I'll admit though, this power play is far more audacious than what I normally expect out of your Order."

"It is nothing of the sort," Bail retorted angrily, "and you know it. The Jedi can be trusted to secure these instruments of war you so indulged yourself with, Padmé. Once the negotiations are complete, authority will be returned to the Senate."

"And don't you dare speak on behalf of the Alliance," Mon added. "You betrayed us. You betrayed our principles. Never will you speak for us again."

"I  _am_  the Alliance," Padmé snarled back. "I created it, I birthed it from nothing. Without me the both of you will still be sucking and choking on Gunray's cock."

"Enough," Obi-Wan ordered. He looked over to Mace, signalling that there was no need to let the politicians continue their bickering. "Time to go."

Without one last look at her former colleagues, Padmé marched obediently towards her fate, her only thoughts centered around her only hope.

* * *

"I'm honestly surprised you took the bait," Obi-Wan said from outside her cell, buried in the depths of the Jedi Temple. To her, he was gloating, an act unbefitting of the Jedi.

"Don't overestimate your cleverness, Jedi." Padmé said stoically, standing with her back at the Jedi, facing the cell wall and refusing to look upon her captor. "You left me little choice. A Consular..."

"Former Consular," Obi-Wan interrupted, feeling a dark burst of anger from the Sith.

"Whatever. I may have been betrayed, but history will show that I carried out my duties to the Alliance until the end. Unlike my disloyal colleagues."

Obi-Wan scoffed. "I think histories will tell a great many different things about this period, once the full truth emerges."

"Why are you here, Obi-Wan? I won't believe you came just to gloat. Is it a confession you're looking for? Would you like me to apologize for being a Sith? Repent and embrace the light? Dye my hair blonde and take you in my mouth?"

She felt the smirk behind her disappear. It was a small triumph, and she needed them right now.

"Maybe I'm here to offer you a sympathetic ear to talk to," Obi-Wan said uncomfortably.

"Ha." Padmé shook her head. "It's that overwhelming intellectual curiosity of yours, isn't it? You want to know everything that makes me tick, how I think, how I hate, so that when you brief the Council, you can show off to those know nothing demigods your expert and analytical insights into the mind of a Sith."

"Whatever you say, Darth."

"You will not get away with this, you know."

The audacity of her declaration took even Obi-Wan unawares. " _I_  won't get away with this?  _You're_  the Sith, lest we forget!  _You're_  the villain, the criminal, the murderess here. I'm just..."

She turned to look at him, her golden brown eyes burning through him with a frightening intensity. "Do you really think my husband will twiddle his thumbs and do nothing while I waste away in a cell? He will destroy you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. He will destroy your Jedi brethren, your Temple, your precious little fountain rooms, , your Code. He will destroy Coruscant, he will destroy this entire fucking galaxy for me!"

"He is one boy against the whole Galaxy." His calm words belied his uneasiness at the Sith's declarations. "You overestimate his powers."

"Yet you all still believe him the Chosen One."

"He had the opportunity to be special, until you intervened. And for what? Not only did you lead yourself to ruin, but your husband's life as well. What will Shmi say to you now?"

"Shmi would still be a slave if you Jedi had your way. If she were still lucky to be alive, what with Hutts free to run roughshod over Tatooine, not to mention the Tusken Raiders and all the other miscreants on that dust ball the righteous Jedi Order would have abandoned the mother of their Chosen One to."

"That is..."

"The absolute truth and you know it." Getting up, she flew over to the bars of her cell, facing Obi-Wan with unnerving rage. "What do you Jedi care about anyone? I heard whispers even as you walked me to this cell. Many of your own kind are quite upset about how the Council is letting that poor Padawan girl rot in a cell, same as me."

"Padawan Tano violated the Code and acted without the authority of the Council. In doing so, she violated the laws of the Republic." Suddenly, he wanted to escape. It had been a long and mentally trying day, and he needed to meditate. Amidala had a point. Why exactly had he come down here again?

"Fafi has stated his intention to pursue the death penalty upon the girl."

"A negotiating tactic, no doubt. He will use it as leverage to obtain more concessions benefiting himself. His stance will soften, but Padawan Tano must face the consequences of her actions. Same as you and your apprentice."

"And the Jedi will face the consequences of their actions," Padmé teased with an evil grin. "My name is immensely popular with the people. When they hear the Jedi conspired with the likes of Fafi and Amedda against me, they will tear down your Temple better than I ever could."

"Popularity is fleeting," Obi-Wan said, more defensively than he would have liked. "The people will change their minds once they learn the truth."

"My truth differs greatly from yours," Padmé said, turning away and lying down onto the small cot, curling up and facing the wall away from Obi-Wan once more. "This conversation is over."

"Plotting my demise? Trying to summon the spirit of your deceased master?"

"Meditating," Padmé said softly, her tone almost as neutral as a Jedi's. "Thinking about my husband, reflecting upon our happiest moments." She paused, appearing to have fallen into a trance, and Obi-Wan turned to leave. As he strode away, he heard her speak again.

"And yes, fantasizing the ways we will torture you once we are reunited."

"Ah, and there you have it," Obi-Wan back around at the cell. "You just can't help yourself, can you? I was willing to believe your spiel, I honestly gave it a chance. Had you been able to control yourself and not go around killing everyone in sight, there never would have been a divide between you and your allies, or between Jedi and Sith. But it's in your nature, isn't it? The principles of a Sith Lord were never compatible with those of a democracy, am I not wrong? With trust, with right..."

He realized there was no point in continuing. The Sith was not responding. Probably not even listening. So for him to continue would only he mean was doing so for selfish purposes, to vent his own frustrations towards the Sith Order in a way unbefitting the Jedi Order. So he shut himself up and left to report to what remained of the High Council.

* * *

If an obese man in the latter stages of his middled age could skip like a child, that's would be how Fafi's gait looked to a bystander as he strode through the Senate hallways. Finally, after all these years in the shadows, the Senate was finally his, if only for a moment. Fafi was under no impression that he could remain in power. Mothma and Organa will take over, at least for a little while. But they were weak do gooders, and their regimes, like that of Bail Antilles, were doomed to failure. Perhaps then, the Senate would recognize his contributions. Even if he never again returned to power, his place in posterity was secured, and true historians centuries from now were certain to applaud his feats.

Hells, he had saved the Republic. There was no denying that, and the small pocket of idealism his heart still harbored gloried in that accomplishment. With one fell swoop, he had eliminated that vile threat of extortion that had hung over the Senate ever since Cato Neimoidia, the same threat that propelled Nute Gunray to power...with his help of course. Only three parties had seen the holocron: Amidala, Gunray, and the Jedi. The former was likely never leaving the bowels of the Jedi Temple, save for when the Jedi grew a set and decide to execute the damned, troublesome woman. As for the Jedi, they were prone to discretion anyway. Led now into what was clearly still a relatively unpopular coup against Amidala, and adding the fact that he could easily pin Gunray's assassination on them thanks to one very naive rogue Padawan, they would be meeker than ever, daring not even a shadow of interference into Galactic politics for centuries. As for Gunray, it was very inconvenient that the girl did not finish the job. He had to die of course, for the threat to abate. With the cowardly Neimoidian still in a fear coma, it would be easy to arrange for his death once the scrutiny of the Alliance members and the Jedi focused away from him and onto mopping up the remains of the war.

Settling happily into the Chancellor's chair after an admittedly exhausting day of negotiations, he frowned at the sight of an old rusty sword hanging above his mantle. The soon to be late Nute Gunray had offered him the vile tool the then Chancellor had used to cut the throat of the Naboo girl as some bizarre token of his gratitude. It would have to go soon, Fafi thought, the heirloom distasteful to him in many ways.

"What a waste of a good cunt," he muttered to himself, his attention pivoting to more important matters. Entering the code to the secret safe under his desk, he opened the drawers and breathed a sigh of relief. Though he had offered up Gunray's control chips for the Droid Army to the Jedi as a gesture of goodwill, even the venerable and wise masters did not know there was a backup. Gunray had shared the secret with only him and Amedda after one particularly drunken late night meeting. He did not expect to use it...but it didn't hurt to keep it either. Just in case the negotiations did not go as planned.


	13. Chapter 13

_"...the Force is strong in our family..."_

_"...there is still good in him..."_

_"...that name no longer has any meaning for me...it is too late for me, son..."_

_"...you were right...tell your sister, you were right..."_

"It is secured, Master Dooku?"

"It is, General Skywalker. I will proceed at once with your orders.

Anakin nodded, not at all upset that the old Jedi still addressed him by the title recently lost. It was a small gesture, but small gestures meant much right now.

"Thank you, General." He turned to the other holo, this of Senator Wipper'lom, perhaps the most faithful of their friends in the Alliance. Likely, the only friend he had left at this point. "Kara, you will await my signal?"

"I am ready," the twi'lek Senator said. She looked compassionately at him through the comm projector. "Good luck, Anakin. I know you will succeed."

"Thanks, Kara," Anakin said softly, as a friend, rather a politician. "I will not fail her."

"May the Force be with you, young Skywalker."

Both the transmissions ended, leaving Anakin alone once more in his quarters. He looked back at the bed, fond memories of Padmé returning to him. The past few months of his life had been exhilarating, the chance to fight for freedom alongside his wife exceeding any dreams he might have had toiling away, slaving for Watto in this universe's version of Hell. They were all memories now, and nothing would remain the same going forward. But he had the power to dictate which direction that change would take.

There was clarity in his mind, clarity in the Force, for the first time in years. Padmé's arrest on Coruscant was predictable enough, as with his own demotion. But there was no certainty until the Force brought visions into reality, and since that moment he had confined himself to his quarters, meditating on not just the way forward, but exploring pathways and possibilities in the Force long hidden to him. Out of his own denial, perhaps. Or other variables. But there was no point in procrastinating any longer. He opened the door, and two Clone troopers were already waiting outside, helmets on.

"Fives. Appo."

The two troopers seemed ready to bear arms, but Anakin sensed a deeper conflict underneath their armor. Holding his hands out, one lightsaber in each hand, he offered the weapons to them.

"Take them. I will report to General Rex on the bridge." He sensed relief after he spoke.

"Thank you, Genera...sir."

The long procession to the command room of the  _Liberator_  did not take long thanks to their brisk pace. Arriving, Anakin saw Rex conferring with the other Jedi, Quinlan Vos, apparently discussing how to pull off a difficult strategic withdrawal from Nar Shaddaa. Quinlan sensed him first, and both tensed visibly at his arrival.

"General Skywalker," Rex said uneasily. His helmet was off, his anxiety towards the situation revealed naked for the room to witness.

"No longer. I will not fight you." He stood, back straight, facing his former subordinate directly from across the bridge. "Are you going to arrest me, Rex?"

For several moments the Clone general did not have a response, having expected either a straight surrender or a fight to the death, the latter more likely in his mind. But a question, a polite request that allowed him time to think...that Rex did not expect.

"No," he said finally, looking down in shame, the act of disobeying an order so fundamentally distasteful to him. "They can arrest me as well, but you will always be my General. When those other politicians wanted to stick a chip in us, make us barely better than these clankers...you and your wife were the only ones who stood up for us."

Behind him, Appo handed him his lightsabers. "Your weapons, General." Anakin could feel the smile underneath his helmet.

"Thank you Commander." Clipping it into his belt, he walked over to the Jedi in the room. "Jedi Vos. Do your intentions match your General Rex's?"

"I...," Quinlan stuttered, "no, Anakin. And if it makes any difference, Anakin, I made it clear to Obi-Wan that I did not approve of his plans."

The young Sith stepped forward threateningly. "You knew. And you did not tell me."

The tension in the room, so recently eased, now crept back as the Clones gathered watched the only two Force users aboard the ship face off.

"I could not, Anakin. There was no path open to me where I could do justice to both your wife and Obi-Wan."

"Because of loyalty to Obi-Wan?"

Quinlan nodded, and wondered if Anakin was going to draw his swords. He did not want to fight the boy, but he had no intentions of dying without a fight. To his relief, Skywalker relaxed his shoulders.

"I understand Jedi. But I will not forget this. You will never have my trust." He turned to the Clones, once again relieved that the bridge avoided yet another duel. "General Rex, will you allow me to address your brothers?"

"They're your men, General," Rex answered happily.

"That is for them to decide," Anakin said as they moved to leave for the barracks. He felt a tap on his shoulders near the doorway, and turned to face the Quinlan, whose sense of shame seemed to only have increased since their encounter.

"Is there...is there anything I can do? Help with for the siege?"

Anakin shook his head coldly. "Take a sabbatical somewhere. You want no part of what's to come."

Quinlan curled his mouth in understanding. But he was not finished. "I know I'm in no place to ask this, but, I..."

"You want me to spare Obi-Wan's life."

"This war has shown that there are different ways to be a Jedi. Obi-Wan and I differ in this matter, but he is a good man. He is orthodox in his ways. Though I thought there was a chance he might sense the shifts in the Force...that the old ways are no longer viable...ultimately, one cannot ask a man to change the man he is. But he does not mean any ill will towards you. Or Padmé."

Prescient of the Rex and the other Clones waiting outside, Anakin nevertheless took his time in considering Quinlan's request.

"Padmé is my only concern," he finally answered. "I will do what I can, though much depends on Obi-Wan's own choices. But if my wife is harmed in any way, if she was touched inappropriately, if she felt pain of any sort..."

Knowing he did not need, or want, to finish his sentence, he turned away and marched at the head of his men towards an army standing in limbo.

* * *

The thousands of troopers rose in uniform salute as they entered the docking bay, though it was unclear to all as to whom they were actually were saluting. Deciding to address the bantha in the room, Rex spoke first.

"Men of the 501st... _General_  Skywalker will now address you. I ask that, whatever your thoughts, whatever we have been ordered, you allow our General to at least speak his piece."

"Thank you, General Rex," Anakin acknowledged, hugging the man before stepping forward to face the horde before him. He paced the dais several times, gathering his thoughts, before he began his harangue.

"Soldiers! Your brother believes I am still a General.  _Your_  general. But legally, in the eyes of the Alliance,  _and_  the Republic, I am a criminal. A fugitive."

Low murmurs grew in the squadrons below before Rex motioned for silence.

"It's fine, Rex. I will not ask your men to break the law. Arrest me, soldiers of the 501st! Or shoot me, it matters little. I stand here today, exposed before you. I am armed, but I cannot withhold the march and aim of an entire battalion of brothers joined in cause and fervor. Rid the galaxy of one Sith, and you will be rewarded! The Alliance will thank you, the Republic will throw you a parade, and you will have earned the everlasting trust of the Jedi Order."

He walked forward into the masses of men, striding between the lines and square formations, staring through the helmets of each trooper he passed along the way. Seeing each clone stand perfectly still, fearful of being the first to move or speak, he stopped beside one particular soldier, patting him on the shoulder.

"Tup. I remember our first battle on Sern Prime. None of us had faced true combat before on such a scale. I was as nervous as any of us, but we persisted, and with that first victory, we dropped the first pebble in the current, pushing back against the tide of the Trade Federation's ruthless onslaught against the free and decent peoples of this Galaxy."

"You led us brilliantly, General," Tup replied under his helmet.

"Thank you. And you fought brilliantly, you and all your brothers." He moved on, turning and walking down another column until he identified another masked Clone. "Echo, you and I singlehandedly freed nearly a thousand slaves in between skirmishes on Zygerria. You will be happy to know that Padmé and I have found homes and settlements for many of them on Mandalore, under the generous auspices of their Duchess Satine Kryze."

"It...that warms my heart, General."

Anakin smiled warmly at the trooper. "Me too, Echo. We hoped Zygerria was but a starting point for our good work, but alas..."

Shaking his head regrettably, Anakin continued. Walking back towards the front of the battalion, he stopped before yet another familiar friend.

"Dogma. We camped together after that last siege on Nal Hutta not so long ago. We talked about what our plans were going to be after the war. Whatever becomes of us, Padmé and I wish you and your brothers that same bright future."

"We won't let that happen," Dogma said, defiance rising in his voice. Turning back, he shouted towards the rest of his brethren. "Brothers! We can't let this happen to our  _General_!"

Once again, Anakin patted the soldier on his shoulder. "No matter." Returning to the front of the room, he stood and faced the entire battalion once more. "Soldiers, shoot me down today, and I will not die happy. I will die thinking about my beloved wife, your former Consular, who fought beside you in the same battles as I. If I am to die today, I will die with unrequited worry and concern for the fate of my Padmé."

His voice breaking, his eyes red and swollen with emotion, he paced back to the spot where he began his speech, next to Rex, Fives, and Appo. "But my only consolation in those last moments will be this gratitude...gratitude not for the battles and the struggles we shared, though I treasure them immeasurably...but gratitude for the good we did. To the people and planets we helped. Together. If that be our legacy, may it last against those who seek to reverse it."

The silence in the room was solemn, heavily contemplative, but to Anakin, the emotional tumult swirling the bay felt on the edge of erupting. Sensing, not through the Force, but through the kinship with his brothers, that it was now his turn to act, Rex stepped forward.

"Brothers of the 501st!" He turned towards the holoprojector broadcasting the scene to the entirety of the Clone armies. "Brothers of the 212th, the 167th, the 309th, and every single Battalion in the Allied armies! General Skywalker was my General. General Skywalker remains my General. I ask you now, who commands you?"

The response was as deafening as it was predictable. After letting the cheers roar then settle battalion after battalion, Anakin raised his hands, as if pleading for calm.

"Soldiers! I ask for restraint! I do not ask you to make this decision in haste, or ignorance. You must understand both sides." Activating his holoprojector, he immediately pulled up one of the live news broadcasts.

 _"...shock through the Galaxy as the leaked footage spreads of practically every Senator remaining within the Republic engaged in various crimes and misdeeds ranging from adultery to even more perverse crimes, succumbing to every bribe and offer of embezzlement, graft, corruption, extortion, slavery, even murder, from Interim Chancellor Tub'r Fafi himself down to minor notables including Senator Rush Clovis from Scipio. These events seemed to have occurred almost two years prior on a summit on Cato Neimoidia, and it can only be surmised that was the pivotal meeting which led to the moral demise of the Republic and the rise of former Chancellor Nute Gunray. Already, riots are breaking out on Coruscant and spreading to Mid and Outer Rim worlds, especially in light of the allegedly crooked agreement made by Fafi with Alliance Consulars Bail Organa and Mon Mothma in their coup against their political peer, Sith Master Padmé Amidala, though accomplished with the cooperation of the Jedi Order. Rum_ ors _are the former Queen, Senator, and Consular is currently being held in the Jedi Temple, where already crowds have gathered demanding her release..."_

Dooku had done well. Before he died, Sifo-Dyas had confided in both his old friend as well as Padmé and Anakin where on Takodana he had hidden the holocron footage taken of all the compromised Senators on Cato Neimoidia. Dooku was assigned to retrieve the holocron upon the completion of the negotiations with Duchess Satine, the crafty old Jedi holding on to the footage solely for a situation such as this. Smirking, he ended the transmission, and activated another one, this of the discussion between Padmé and her colleagues mere days before.

_"I see that I am outvoted in this measure"_

_"Do you really believe Fafi and Amedda will negotiate in good faith?"_

_"There are options on the table palatable to all. Let Fafi keep his ill-gotten fortunes. Let Amedda keep his seat in the Senate, perhaps even as a minority Councilor..."_

_"And let their crimes go unpunished? Let their followers see our leniency towards the corruption and vice that got us here in the first place, and reunite the Republic under the same flawed foundation we pretended to ignore before these Clone Wars?"_

_"Though my objections remain, I accept the decision of the Tri-Consulate."_

Disabling the holos for the last time, Anakin watched with satisfaction as the acclaim and exuberance in the room shifted to anger and rage.

"Betrayal!"

"They are the traitors, not Generals Skywalker and Amidala!"

"We must avenge them!"

Even Rex seemed in shock at both the revelation of the extent of the Senate's corruption, as well as the supposed willingness of Mon Mothma and Bail Organa to conspire with said corrupt Senators.

"Soldiers," Anakin shouted, resuming his proclamation, firm in the knowledge that the day was his. "I implore you towards calm! Revenge is not our way. We seek justice, as we always have, from before even the formation of the Alliance. The accusations against and actions taken against Consular Amidala are a miscarriage of justice. You see now the enemy we face! You see now what they stand for! Their actions tell us they will stop at nothing in order to preserve their ill gotten gains! They speak of compromise, but the enemy wishes nothing more than to reverse our great victories at Sern Prime! At Zygerria! At Nal Hutta! They wish to erase our legacy, and they will stop at nothing until either we are destroyed, or brought down to their level against our collective wills!

See who decides for you! Consular Organa, born into royalty. Consular Mothma, born into aristocracy. You were born on Kamino, in bondage. I was born on Tatooine, a slave until I freed myself! My wife was born free on Naboo, but manipulated into bondage under a vile master for many years, until she chose to break free from her chains!

We both learned long ago that there is no freedom in this galaxy except what we pry forcibly from those who wish to deny it! There is no justice except what we pry forcibly from those who wish to evade it! Today, you have reacclaimed me as your General! Do you stand with me tomorrow? With Amidala? For justice! For freedom!"

"Not bad," Rex said as they departed the hangar bay.

"I learned from the best," Anakin replied, his steps lighter than earlier in the day, yet a dangerous edge to his voice. He looked over to his wife's favorite R2 droid, another bittersweet reminder of Padmé.  _She's not dead yet_ , he had to remind himself. "Artoo."

The small droid beeped in response.

"Did you record everything?"

Artoo beeped affirmatively.

"Good. The moment we emerge into Coruscanti airspace, fucking release this to the fucking masses."

* * *

"What is the troop count?" With the army his secure once more, there was no rest for the young Sith warrior as he studied the ongoing skirmishes on the surface of the Hutt moon.

Rex rattled off the list of squadrons and battalions engaged in each conflict on Nar Shaddaa.

"I see," Anakin said pensively. "So we have few to spare for an assault on Coruscant."

Rex shook his head. "Not without losing all the gains we've made on Nar Shaddaa thus far."

"And the clan headquarters the Hutts have scattered with slave hostages in each compound. So we can't just behead the serpent, bombard it to death."

"No," Appo said. "Taking out the control centers will require the same delicate extraction operations as Nal Hutta."

Studying the map of the moon, Anakin scrolled through quadrant after quadrant until he located a relatively peaceful sector on the southern half of Nar Shaddaa.

"This is where the clan leaders are keeping their families?"

Rex nodded. "All the hatcheries, the noble clans, mates..."

The clan leaders seemed content to leave their families in opulent quarters, confident that the Alliance would not go after them, so much so that they hoarded all their slave hostages themselves, believing their families and offspring immune to the wages of war. It was not an unreasonable assumption, considering that the Alliance thus far in the war had limited their targets only towards military and political sites.

"Obliterate them," Anakin said, the ruthlessness in his voice ever more accentuated in the soft, even sensual way he said each word. "For millennia the Hutts have destroyed not just entire families but hundreds of systems wholesale. They don't just profit off the suffering, they revel gleefully in it.

He slammed his fist onto the counter.

"Today they finally reap a fraction of what they sowed. Commence the assault with a light bombardment, enough to draw upon all their reinforcements in panic." He pointed and drew vectors from several of the military barracks. "Let them believe there is hope to save their own. We destroy their deployments while en route. Then we flatten the familial sector until it is as barren as the mountains of Mustafar."

"Harsh," Rex commented, "but this will cripple their resistance."

Anakin nodded. "Leave the 212th on site and blockade the system. No one gets out," he paused in thought, "though I will allow in medical and foodstuff transports, and only after a thorough inspection." He knew that with slaves would be the first to starve, so unless more than enough supplies were provided for the Hutt clans, the slaves were as good as dead anyway.

"The 501st will lead the assault on Coruscant. I will recall Dooku and the 309th from Felucia to reinforce us." Brushing away the projection of Nar Shaddaa, he replaced it with one of Coruscant. "We will focus our targets on the Senate and Jedi Temple, though care should be taken. My wife's still down there somewhere."

"Understood, General Skywalker..."

"Rex," Anakin said, pulling the clone general back as he set forth to deliver his orders. "Call me General Vader for now. It would be...more suited to the occasion."

His comments confused him slightly, but Rex didn't really care that much about names. After all, any name he and his brothers may have now came not from their breeders on Kamino, but from their own. "Very well, General Vader."


	14. Chapter 14

"Well, that was certainly unexpected." Mon Mothma suddenly found herself in need of wine. Lots of it. She wondered if there was any in the room. With her luck, the only wine in the building was probably  _Amidala's Vintage_.

The occupants of the Senate conference room watched the holonet reports in shock. Above them, they could already hear the bombardments above as the 501st began its advance attack of the capital world's defensive satellite stations.

"The Clones," Bail moaned painfully. "We left that flank wide open! How did we leave Skywalker with an entire army?"

"Because they were clones," Mon yelled back. "The Kaminoans assured us of their complete obedience to orders."

"Skywalker's orders, apparently. Who knew the kid was such a good orator."

"We underestimated him completely," Mon muttered. "Force, all this could have been prevented with the inhibitor chips."

"They knew," Bail said quietly. "Even then, they were planning to wrest control of the Clones from us."

"I don't know," Obi-Wan said, standing quietly in the corner of the room. "I'm no advocate for Amidala. Nevertheless, I can't help but agree with her that those inhibitor chips are antithetical to the principles of the Alliance." He strode over to the holoprompter and rewound the footage. "He still had to convince them, to be sure. It was no done deal. The boy did a damned good job, else he'd be in binders right now, or dead."

"You did not anticipate this, Master Jedi?" There was a hint of blame in Bail's voice as Obi-Wan turned off the transmission.

"The fault is mine and mine alone," Obi-Wan admitted. He had failed, and there was no point in covering it up before probably the last two politicians he genuinely respected still. Deciding to come clean, he gave them a chagrined smile. "The possibility was not lost on me, but due to a certain blind spot of mine which I am only recognizing now, I dismissed its chances long enough to believe worth the gamble."

"Blind spot," Mon asked. "What blind spot?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "My master, Qui-Gon Jinn discovered the boy on Tatooine. He believed Anakin a child of prophecy, a Chosen One, destined to bring balance to the Force, and destroy the Dark Side. He died asking me to train Skywalker, to lead him to his destiny, and against all odds, the Council agreed. Yet in that last moment, Skywalker changed his mind, deciding to join Amidala on Naboo instead."

"She seduced him to the Sith," Bail said, realizing, "to prevent him from joining the Jedi."

"Skywalker developed a fixation on the girl very early on, likely within days of meeting each other while we were stranded on Tatooine. In hindsight, it's obvious that Amidala planned from the onset to use that innocent infatuation to her advantage, one which she still wields even today. I always had my suspicions about the boy's sudden change of heart, considering Qui-Gon told me he had dreamed of joining the Order before he practically even knew of its existence."

"Such a perversion in so many ways," Mon muttered. "I always thought the difference age between the two to be odd. Now I realize how truly...unnatural their entire relationship is. Force, she wed him at seventeen! If it were Chandrila she'd be in jail, not the Senate."

Obi-Wan ran one hand through his beard slowly, sadness evident in his every movement. "Amidala confronted me on Zygerria. She accused me of wanting to steal Anakin from her. She knew that Qui-Gon asked me to train Skywalker with his dying words, and accused me of trying to win him back to the Jedi for the sake of fulfilling Qui-Gon's legacy. She was half right."

He turned and sat next to Mon Mothma, looking both her and Bail in the eye. "My relationship with my late Master was complicated. We had many...ups and downs, many words left unsaid. But I venerated that man...which made our conflicts ever more painful to me, when they did occur. Though I had my doubts at first, after Qui-Gon's death I had come to believe his words wholeheartedly. Perhaps it was because I felt guilt for doubting him, and arguing with him on our last day as Master and Padawan. But I never believed that Qui-Gon's legacy was unfulfilled, because after so many years...I grew certain with faith that he was right...that he would eventually be proven right."

"You thought that once you pried him away from Amidala's influence...," Mon began thoughtfully.

"Her spell," Bail added, "that he would naturally become that figure of...prophecy."

Obi-Wan nodded, looking away towards the viewport. "I didn't have to win Anakin to the Jedi. It didn't even matter at this point that I was to be the one to train him, it was too late anyway, even before we all discovered Amidala was a Sith. He was too old at the time to be trained as it was. But all that mattered was that Qui-Gon was right. That, by some whim...no...by the  _will_  of the Force, Anakin would come around, dig his way out of the Dark Side's influence, and do the right thing. Do what he was  _destined_  to do, or so Qui-Gon believed. The more I doubted him then, so the more my guilt buffeted the certainty of his prediction after the Sith murdered him. And my mistake may very well have destroyed the Republic."

Bail looked at him sympathetically. "It's not all on you, Obi-Wan. The blame lies with all of us, Mon and I included for letting her string us like puppets for so long..."

"YOU'RE FUCKING RIGHT YOU ALL FUCKED UP," Fafi bellowed angrily from the doorway, Force knows having stood there eavesdropping for how long, but Obi-Wan stood unaffected by his curses.

"Calm down and have a drink, Chancellor," Obi-Wan remarked sardonically. He looked around. " _Do_  we have anything to drink around here?"

"I think what we need more is a course of action," Bail said. "Do we have a course of action?"

"Yeah, do we? Jedi?" Fafi pressed forward, thinking to intimidate Obi-Wan before rapidly realizing how bad of an idea that was.

"We fight back, obviously." Obi-Wan rose to leave. "I'm sure Master Windu is coordinating the droid response as we speak. Call out for reinforcements from all our allies," he looked towards Fafi, "however unappealing they may appear to be. I will return to the Temple to secure our prisoner. It is vital that she remains where she is."

"What about us," Mon asked.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I don't know. Give a speech or something? Amidala has evidently taught her husband the art of propaganda, and the Sith are winning that front as well. You are what she pretends to be. Convince the people."

Bail rose, looking Obi-Wan in the eye. "Be honest with me, Master Jedi. Do we stand any chance?"

"Honestly?" Obi-Wan closed his eyes in contemplation. "Honestly, everything else we attempt is merely a sideshow. Everything comes down to Skywalker. He will fight to the death for his wife. Either he dies, or the Republic and the Jedi Order alongside it."

"So...," Fafi asked, confused as to the Jedi's cryptic answer. "Who's going to die then?"

"Many will die," Obi-Wan answered stoically. "But Skywalker will have to fight his way through the entire Temple to get what he wants."

* * *

"You will come to regret your betrayal of Padmé. Where she was silk, I am steel. This is your only chance to surrender, Consulars. Defy me, and you will be annihilated." Clad comfortably in a black hooded robe, he was nevertheless happy to reveal his face. There was no need to hide it as per Sith traditions since Bane, considering not only was his appearance widely known, it still was the most popular covers for tabloids across the galaxy several years running. Besides, after years of pretense, he still felt a certain glee in acting out in the open.

"You stole an army, Skywalker, for your coup. Good for you, I didn't think you had it in you. But you are still outnumbered. This battle will prove beneficial for neither one of us, and I cannot guarantee the safety of your wife once hostilities commence."

The hologram of Bail Organa suddenly grasped at his neck in pain, frothing at his mouth for several seconds before he bent over, gasping for breath once the invisible assault ceased.

Darth Vader smiled evilly. "Had I anything to gain from it, you'd be dead by now. But take it as a lesson. Do not dare threaten my wife. _No one_  threatens Padmé. Ever." He paced the bridge slowly, never taking his eyes away from the two Alliance Consulars. "Technically, this is a counter coup, in reaction to yours, when you sold out the Alliance to the corrupt and rotting corpse of the Republic."

"Congratulations, Skywalker," Mon began.

"It's Lord Vader to you," Anakin growled threateningly.

"...you accomplished a bit of clever splicing. The truth will be revealed..."

"Yes, I 'paraphrased', but was that not your intent? To let the likes of Fafi and Amedda retain power, knowing their corruption and vileness?"

"Compromise, yes," Bail insisted, "to avoid just this very battle you are about to wage."

Anakin laughed mockingly. "Well, good job then. Your integrity matches your competence."

"Skywalker, think this through," Mon Mothma scolded as a schoolteacher would a youngling, "every action you take further condemns your wife. If Padmé were innocent, then she will prevail in court. If..."

"I see," Anakin said, still smiling. "You are stalling. You are awaiting reinforcements. You fail, Consulars. Take care for your appearance, for I will greet you in person shortly."

Abruptly cutting the transmission, he looked over towards Rex. "What is their numerical advantage?"

"Considering the all the droid crafts and fighters on planet, they outnumber us roughly three to one."

Anakin nodded. "After Dooku arrives with the 309th?"

Rex entered in the calculations. "Roughly a seven to five advantage still for the Republic."

"I like those odds," Anakin said pensively, studying the computers. "Contact Shu Mai, Wat Tambor, and San Hill."

Rex looked over towards his commander in confusion. "From the Guilds and Banking Clans? They are likely on their way here to attack us."

"Yes," Anakin said quietly. "I'll borrow a thought from Organa...this may be a time for compromise."

Seconds later, he was staring at three of the richest oligarchs of the Republic.

"What is the meaning of this," Wat Tambor asked in his deep voice.

"You are a fugitive, Skywalker," San Hill of the Banking Clan droned arrogantly. "Why do you waste my time?"

"I have reason to believe that you are recalling your droid armies to relieve Coruscant."

Shu Mai of the Commerce Guilds dismissed him. "What we do does not concern you, traitor."

"You will be routed, boy," Tambor threatened gleefully.

Suddenly, like Bail Organa minutes before, San Hill and Shu Mai were suspended in the air, grasping at their throats, while the head of the Techno Union stared at the scene in shock.

"I would advise you to not underestimate the powers of a Sith Master. Defy me, and I will destroy your persons here and now, before I destroy your armies, and all the credits in the galaxy will do nothing to save you."

He let go, and watched with amusement as the two victims of his Force choke struggled to recover their bearings.

"Stand by this battle, however, and my wife will reward you for your allegiance." He alternated his voice from a milky, persuasive tone to the firmness he had observed from Padmé, the tone she reserved for her most critical speeches. "The Republic is doomed, as is the Trade Federation. Once Padmé and I win this little skirmish, we will have full access to the treasury accounts of the Federation. I understand that there has been some discontent in how Gunray has been allocating the spoils of your little war. I mean to correct that...in the name of justice, of course."

"Our loyalties are not for sale," Wat Tambor, the only still physically unscathed thus far, started to say. "Not at a discount, at least."

"The Sith believe in fairness, Foreman Tambor, when it comes to sharing our fares of passage. And you will find in us as partners much more stability, consistency, and durability."

"Such monumental decisions take time," San Hill said thoughtfully. "And we will take our time in making one."

"That is all I can ask of you, Chairman. Decisions made it haste benefit no one."

Ending yet another transmission, he looked over towards Rex, who seemed as doubtful as ever.

"I guess deals must be made, huh?"

Anakin laughed. Rex doubted him, and that was good. Not only could the man think independently, but he also had the right instincts. "Don't worry, Rex. Their fear and their greed are both predictable and useful. Once Padmé and I take power, we will personally lead the campaigns against these vermin. We will crush them, and I will take personal pleasure in prolonging their deaths...unless you wish to take part."

Rex laughed, an outburst of relief. "I like it. I'm not much into the whole torture thing, but I'll gladly take the killshot when you're done with them."

"Good," Anakin said, happy there was no misunderstanding between himself and his lieutenant. He turned to the battle projectors. "Now, form a tight defensive perimeter until Dooku's reinforcements arrive, and we'll deliver the Republic the killshot it deserves." Walking to the viewport, he pointed ahead at the gleaming, durasteel planet gleaming in a panorama before them. "The jewel of the galaxy, some say."

"Just an oversized hunk of metal, if you ask me," Appo remarked before he could help it. "General, my apologies for speaking out of turn."

"But you're right, Commander." Anakin walked over to his staff, gathered and readying for the upcoming battle. "There's not much to it. A lot of sentients. A lot of buildings for the rich, slums for the poor, trillions in between, a bunch of politicians and Jedi who believe themselves more important than they are." He pointed at Rex. "You, General. You stand now as one of the most powerful military officers, nay, sentients, in the Galaxy. Yet you've never set foot on Coruscant, never seen it in person until this moment. Does that bother you?"

"No sir," Rex said, unsure of where the Sith Lord was going with his train of thought as be paced about the bridge.

"We had a capital world as well. Hosnian Prime. We set up offices there, a Senate, commons, bureaucracies, barracks, parks for the families...what did you think of Hosnian Prime, General?"

"It was a pleasant enough place," Rex answered. "Good for some r'n'r in between battles. The politicians were nice enough. Locals treated you well. Decent food."

"Yes, very ordinary." Anakin turned his attention back to the viewport. "Coruscant isn't ordinary. As much of shell as the Republic is, Coruscant still stands, and people still believe. Some will always believe in the Republic, not because they believe in the individual Senators, or the laws, or the Jedi...but because they believe in Coruscant. It is a symbol. It is power. It is history, tradition...it is the center, the vital, beating heart of not just the Republic, but the entire galaxy...precisely because it has been all that beyond the reach of memory."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Rex tried to discern where the Sith was trying to lead him. It was a lesson, he was sure of it now. Anakin Skywalker, nay Vader, was giving him the keys to the castle. "To win a war, to capture power, you must capture the capital," he said, thinking as he spoke, "take the symbol and hold it. We had core worlds like Alderaan and Chandrila but...even if we took Corellia or Kuat or hells, more than half the Core...as long as Coruscant stands against us, the Republic lives."

The young Sith seemed to almost beam applause at the student, nodding in approval. "All very true." Then, his smile transformed into a thoughtful frown. "Yet, I myself grew up in the Outer Rim. I had barely heard of Coruscant, much less cared any about it. I was a slave. Power was immediate. Power lay in who controlled me, who controlled my city, my planet. My master. The Hutts. Their enforcers. The power of a symbol only goes so far."

"Sir," Rex asked, scattered to uncertainty again. "I...so, Coruscant isn't important?"

The Sith stood deathly still before the viewport, studying the incoming formations of the Droid army as it raced from the planet surface towards their fleet at a blazing speed.

"History is littered with the bones of warlords chasing shiny objects, Rex. If a wise commander can discern that fixation from an opponent, they can bait them endlessly on a wild bantha chase, until their armies are worn and weary, prime for the taking. Obsess over a symbol, and you forget what constitutes actual power. Force. Armies. Weapons. Credits. Technology. Manpower." He gestured at the space before them, already in the first throes of the battle. "You can chip away all you want, here and there. You can take however many worlds. You can take the enemy's capital, control and even define the symbols which represent them as a society...but unless you give battle, until you destroy the enemy's capability to wage war, they will always live to fight you another day."

Furiously releasing further orders and directing his squadrons and fighters against the Republic droids engaged in combat, Rex nevertheless took the time to look up at Skywalker. "That I can agree with easily, General." Taking a break from his duties, he looked inquisitively at Anakin, wondering if he was going to wrap up this lesson before the battle got truly heated. "So what is it then? Capture the shiny symbol? Or destroy the enemy's tangible means of power?"

Taking in Rex's question, Anakin mused for a moment that, as eager as he was to educate Rex in the ways of war, the two shared the exact same amount of battle experience. Though he had studied for years ancient and obscure battles and strategems, neither him nor Rex had carried any of them out in practice until the first battle of the Clone Wars on Sern Prime. He recalled those years fondly, matching neatly the eight year term of Padmé's reign on Naboo; rather than wasting time studying the most arcane and rather inane theories of the Dark Side from long dead Sith lords, none of whom had accomplished a Shiraya damned thing besides inflating their own grandiosity, both he and his wife had devoted much of their study to the histories of the galaxy, Anakin to the military arts, every battle and campaign ever recorded and documented, and Padmé into the depths politics and diplomacy.

A feral smile grew on Lord Vader's lips. The knowledge was his, and he would teach his disciples. Holding one finger in the air, he allowed it to guide his vision as he finished his lecture. "You're correct, Rex. The immediate battle constitutes merely one of thousands of fronts within a war, each with millions of invisible flanks. Afford to neglect nothing. Take what you can, find the easy targets, that which can be won with minimal loss, to maximize your advantage, but don't delude yourself that easy wins can win you a war, for true victory eludes you until you've taken  _everything_  from your enemy."

* * *

"How the fuck was that footage released," Fafi asked Obi-Wan angrily as they paced side by side through the Senate hallways. "I was under the impression that the Jedi had the holocron secured!"

"We thought so," Obi-Wan said, embarrassed. "It turns out, the Jedi Master we entrusted the holocron to turned out to be an avid supporter of Amidala."

"Kriff," Fafi swore disrespectfully, though at this point, Obi-Wan was not sure whether he or the Order as a whole deserved much respect. "How could that happen? And this was kept from the Republic?"

"Well, I don't need to remind you that thanks to your chosen candidate, Chancellor Fafi, the Jedi Order and the Republic have not been on great terms of late."

"The Jedi Order should have finished Gunray and the Trade Federation ten years ago after the Naboo fiasco," Fafi grumbled.

"With all due respect, Chancellor, the Jedi Order does not 'finish' living beings. Besides, we entrusted them to the justice of the Senate." They reached Fafi's office, and Obi-Wan looked away uncomfortably. "Look, Chancellor, there's no point to playing the blame game right now. I have a job to do. As do you."

Ignoring the Jedi, Fafi paced into his office. Meandering around absentmindedly in slow circles for a several minutes, trying to burrow his brain towards every opportunity to still somehow outflank both Skywalker and the Jedi, he went to peer outside the hallway. It was quiet, save one footstep disappearing into a corner, which he assumed was the Jedi's.

"Oh Fafi, thank the Gods you prepare for this shit," he muttered to himself. Activating his hidden drawer, he entered one set of codes, summoning his personal yacht, which arrived at the landing pad outside his office within seconds. He wafted over, before running back to his desk.

"Can't forget the override control," he said gleefully, grabbing the small mechanism, the key to his escape from the droid blockade. No point in reaching the atmosphere only to be shot down by his own droids.

He turned back towards the yacht again, when he felt a new and yet familiar set of eyes upon him.

"For Sith's sake," he swore, then stopped, seeing the silhouette of a small, feminine figure standing at his doorway.

"A whore," he asked, confused. "When the kriff did I order myself a whore in the middle of a damned battle..."

"What? What is wrong with this place? Why does  _everyone_  assume I'm a prostitute around here?" The figure emerged into the light of his office, revealing a young Togruta girl, a bit bruised and beaten but not much worse for wear.

"Tano," Fafi asked in shock. "What the...you're supposed to be detained!"

The girl scoffed. "Your cells weren't made to hold a Jedi." Her eyes darkened as , with their close proximity, memories of his betrayal returned vividly to her. "I trusted you, Fafi. Force knows I didn't trust you, yet somehow I still did."

Fafi laughed. He needed to get rid of this little annoyance, before his window for escape closed for good. "Look, girl, no hard feelings. Tis politics, that's all."

"Is it? I'm the only one that wanted to do the right thing. And what happens? You throw me in jail. I wanted to fix the Republic, help  _you_  even, and you slap me a kriffing death penalty. I wanted to help the Jedi, and they abandon me." She felt the anger building inside her. If Master Kit Fisto were here, he would have harsh words for her. But Kit Fisto wasn't here, he had been absent for much of the war. He, like Masters Yoda and so many of the Jedi, had abandoned Coruscant and the Republic. Had abandoned her, every one of them, having given her up to Fafi.

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Fafi said uneasily, realizing that there was something off with this Padawan, fear pinging his senses within her presence where he had only dismissed her before. "You see, there's this holocron the Jedi had, and it threatened the integrity of the Senate..."

"Shut up," Ahsoka whispered, and to her shock, the Interim Chancellor of the Republic did as he was told. That felt good. That felt really good. "Shut up," she yelled in a louder voice. "Shut up SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP."

"Calm, girl..."

But she was no longer listening. Right now, all she wanted was her lightsabers, so she could cut this fat slob of a politician wide open. The Senate guard had confiscated them during her arrest, but as she scanned the office, she saw an old dull knife hanging off one of the shelves, very much resembling the one Gunray had used to murder the girl from Naboo. As she brought her fingers in the air, lifting the knife through the Force off its perch, she realized that is was very likely the very same weapon.

"Look, set that down, and we can discuss reasonably..."

Without warning, she flung the knife with the Force across the office with laser speed, and watched as it burrowed itself into Fafi's neck before she could blink. Politician and Padawan stared at each other in shock, then Fafi began coughing violently. Grabbing at his neck, he tried taking hold of the handle several times before collapsing dead onto the carpet where, unbeknownst to the both of them, his frame fell upon the droid override control, activating it briefly before shattering it into hundreds of pieces.

"No hard feelings, Chancellor," Ahsoka found herself taunting the dead man before frowning. What had just happened? Did she just do that? As her surroundings returned to focus, she could hardly believe the grisly scene before her...the scene she was wholly responsible for.

Alas, Ahsoka did not have time for regret. Hearing the clanking of battle droids approaching, she saw the Chancellor's yacht and ran into the cockpit.

The squadron of battle droids entering the office seconds after she had flown away observed the scene before them in confusion.

"Does not compute," one droid blurted out. "Looks like Supreme Chancellor is dead. Who do we report to now?"

The computers in the squad captain's processor whirled furiously. "Override code was initiated. When in doubt, failsafe is Supreme Commander, always."

"Where is Supreme Commander," another droid questioned.

Accessing the Senate building schematics, the captain barked out a beep of confusion. "Supreme Commander Gunray is being held in the detention cells. We must seek him out and request new orders."

"Roger that," the droids saluted as they followed the captain out of the Chancellor's office.

* * *

"Is this heaven? Is this hell?"

Nute Gunray lay immobilized in the darkened room, his hands and legs bound to a small cot. Craning his neck to gauge his surroundings having just come to hours earlier, he recalled his last memory being chopped down and sliced into hundreds of pieces by a gigantic and monstrous Jedi Master, as if it were Masters Yoda and Mace Windu combined, then multiplied a hundred times larger. Yet here he was, and as his consciousness drifted to and from his personal limbo, he wondered whether he was in one of the twenty Neimoidian hells. That would be impossible. He was a Viceroy and a Supreme Chancellor. That meant he should have passed directly into the one and only Neimoidian heaven, reserved only for the richest and most powerful of his kind. But this was not heaven, not his heaven at least. There clearly weren't enough whores.

"This must be mistake," he muttered to himself over and over again. "Or Jedi trickery."

As boredom overtook him and the former, also possibly current, Supreme Chancellor of the Republic fell back into a comatose state, drooling as his head lopped sideways, the ever familiar and sweet sound of droids clanging their meet against the hard marble floor reanimated him.

"My subjects...they must come to take me heaven!"

Sure enough, he was greeted by the most welcome sight of several dozen battle droids breaking open the door to his cell. Using a slicer, the captain swiftly undid his binders, and Nute Gunray, his body still numb and woozy from days of inactivity, clumsily sat upwards.

"Which way to heaven my serfs? The orgy's I demand they surpassing Coruscant..."

"Heaven," the droid captain stuttered nervously. "You're alive, sir. This is still Coruscant, in the Senate building..."

"How is that possible?"

"The Jedi betrayed you sir. Fafi led them against you, then Fafi negotiated with the Alliance and captured Amidala and gave her to the Jedi, then we found Fafi dead, but Skywalker..."

"Betrayal," Gunray yelled furiously, waving both his arms lamely and limply around. "Amidala! I knew they betray me, Fafi shit me but he punished because I am King God!"

He stood, legs wobbling and knees buckling as several droids maneuvered themselves beside him to support the weight of his body. "I am resurrected. They kill me, but I survive," he proclaimed, his voice increasingly loud and grandiose whilst his ego recovered alongside his muscles. "I emerged in God, all my enemies are crushed into bitty dust! They will all die, and God Gunray will reign over all!"

Pivoting angrily over to the droid commander, his vision dizzy from the sudden bloodrush, he thundered angrily, "where is Amidala?!"

"Held underneath the Jedi Temple, sir."

"Good," Gunray echoed evilly. "All traitors retreat to they last cave of death! Crush them. Crush the Temple! Kill them all!"

"But sir..."

"DO IT," he screamed, raising his arms in the air furiously. Losing his support and his balance, his legs creaked and buckled and the Neimoidian found himself plummeting downwards again, hitting the ground with a giant thud.

"I think he fainted again," one of the droids commented.

"No matter," the captain buzzed dismissively. "You heard our orders." He spoke into his comm to broadcast to the entire droid army. "Attack the Jedi Temple. Kill all the Jedi, kill Amidala, no survivors."


	15. Chapter 15

As much as Anakin would have liked to hop in a fighter and singlehandedly blast the Droid army into oblivion, command held him to higher responsibilities. Deep in his battle meditation, plumbing the depths of the Force nudging each squadron, each ship along the right path willed by the Force, he sensed the shift in the tendrils between time and space the moment it happened. Something momentous had occurred on the planet's surface, and quickly, he felt the beating heart of the battle outside the  _Liberator_  come to a halt.

"General," Rex summoned, confused. "It seems the droid army just stopped their attack."

"I sense something unexpected, Rex. Events seem to have changed on Coruscant."

"They're...they're reversing course," Rex said, reading the layout of the battle as it was happening. "They're directing their fire back down towards the planet."

"I'm getting readouts close to the surface," Appo added in the back. "The droid army is converging on the Jedi Temple."

Anakin nodded. "This is an interesting development indeed." He stood up and studied the command room sensors, studying the droid army's pattern of retreat. "Continue the attack. We will destroy them all the easier with their backs turned to us."

"Yes sir," Rex said, issuing the orders. "This seems way too easy. I still don't understand..."

Anakin closed his eyes, returning his focus into the Force. Reaching down onto the trillions of sentients in the capital world, he felt one unique vergence in the Force and immediately connected in to the sudden shift. And he saw that said vergence was on an immediate collision course with the  _Liberator_. Anakin thanked the Force for this unexpected bounty it blessed its Chosen One with.

"I think we'll find out the reason very shortly. Send the reserves and double the assault on the droids. Command Dooku once he arrives to coordinate with the Jedi if possible. They can only hold them off for so long, and we can't let the droids pose a tangible threat to my wife." Walking up to the map, he brushed through the coordinates until he found a small blip, a solitary ship headed their way. "Give this one clearance to dock, and escort the occupant directly to the bridge."

"Yes sir," Appo said, saluting as he left to carry out the Sith's orders.

* * *

"What is going on," Mace grimaced as he questioned the Sith Lady, his voice rising as close to anger as he could allow it. Far above, another blast rocked the walls of the Temple as he spoke, and Mace felt the passing in the Force of yet several more Knights. "What game is this you play, woman, that you'd destroy us along with yourself?"

Guarding the former Consular were about a dozen Jedi's ranging from Padawan to Master, the group led by Shaak Ti, a member of the High Council. Accompanied by Obi-Wan, whom Mace was finding increasingly trustworthy in a Temple way too undermanned for this emergency, they had stormed down to the lower cells the moment they received word that the Droid Army had turned against them.

"I  _wish_  this were my doing," Padmé responded, laughing at the Jedi, her condescending tone sounding almost disappointed in their accusations. "You are so truly blind to the Force? That you'd actually believe it when you cast your own failings unto others?"

"Anakin then," Obi-Wan asked. "He must have sliced..."

"You know he would do no such thing," Padmé snarled back angrily. "My husband is capable enough to destroy you all without risking my life in the process."

"Your husband is a Sith," Mace answered sternly. "They are known to turn against their own."

His response elicited such a malicious glare from the Sith that he almost winced in response.

"Had I the means I would make you suffer for your blasphemy, you would feel pain you could never imagine!" Padmé hissed out her words. "For now, I can only take pleasure in knowledge to the extent of your shortsightedness, with further conviction that it will result in your doom."

A beep on Obi-Wan's comm interrupted the intense stare down between Sith and Jedi. "It's Bail Organa," he said, answering the unexpected call. "Consular Organa? Do you know what's going on here?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," Bail's holo image responded, the transmission spotty and inconsistent.

"We're holding out in Bail's old office," Mon added from beside him, "but not sure how much longer before the Droids find us."

"Are they attacking the Temple too," Bail asked.

"They are," Obi-Wan admitted. "We're not sure what happened, but we lost control out of nowhere."

"There was a backup control," Mon said. "From what I gathered from some of the aides here, Fafi had one, but someone killed him for it."

"Chancellor Fafi is dead," Windu asked, eyes wide in shock. "Who? What happened?"

Mon shrugged her shoulders. "No one knows. Someone stabbed him to death with Gunray's ceremonial sword, but not before he initiated the override. I think the droids then reverted to their default orders and freed Nute Gunray. They have control of the entire building now, and I'm pretty sure Gunray thinks the Jedi were the ones who betrayed him, since it was one your Padawans who attempted to arrest him."

"Kriff it," Mace swore. "I'd like to send help, but our hands are tied here."

Bail nodded sadly in resignation. "We understand, Master Jedi. What is happening with the Clone Army?"

Obi-Wan took out his datapad, trying to discern from the screen any sense of logic from the chaos above them. "It appears they are attacking the droid army from the rear."

Mace huffed indignantly. "The boy's come to save us?"

"Not likely," Obi-Wan responded. "I'd guess that our siege won't end with the destruction of the Droids."

"Very well," Mace said after some contemplation. He returned his steely gaze to the two besieged politicians. "Hang in there, Consulars. If they come for you, surrender peacefully. We'll get all this sorted out soon."

"Thank you, Master Jedi." The Consulars ended the transmission, but it seemed clear that neither one of them believed his words that help was coming, though both were prepared to face certain death with dignity. Mace shook his head in exasperation before addressing the Jedi gathered.

"Masters Shaak Ti. Eeth Koth. Master Kenobi and I will watch over the Sith. Take your guard back up to the main levels. We must devote as many resources as we can to the Temple's defense. We cannot let either army breach the interiors. Both droids and clones will slaughter us indiscriminately, younglings and crechelings alongside our Knights."

"Yes, Master Windu."

All but one left the detention level obediently.

"Knight Offee," Mace addressed the young Miralian who did not depart with the rest of her group.

"Master Windu," Barriss responded, no fear in her voice. "This Sith lord was responsible for the death of my Master. I...I want to make sure that she does not escape justice."

Mace narrowed his eyes skeptically, studying the young Jedi. "You are certain of your intentions," he asked, "your feelings?"

"I am, Master Windu."

"One more won't hurt," Obi-Wan said uneasily, noticing how empty the detention block suddenly felt.

"What a fine group of cowards," Padmé taunted from her cell, sitting on the floor cross-legged almost as if she were in one of the Temple's meditation chambers.

"If this is a trick by your husband...," Obi-Wan began, approaching her.

" _Master_  Kenobi," she said almost amusingly, "it seems your promotions come exclusively at the expense of the Sith."

"You seem confident," Obi-Wan observed. Last time he spoke to her, she seemed defiant yet resigned at the same time. But now, there was a new exuberance in her eyes.

"I trust the Force, Masters Jedi."

"As do the Jedi," Mace retorted.

"I trust my husband," Padmé added spitefully. "Lucky for me, he  _is_  the Force, incarnate."

"We'll see about that," Obi-Wan muttered, more to himself than to the Sith.

* * *

Two clones accompanied the small, spritely Togrutan onto the bridge of the Liberator, and Anakin regarded the young Padawan with amusement.

"Padawan Tano," he addressed her formally. "Your capacity for agitation seems to have no bounds. It seems," he gestured with his hands to the viewport and the chaotic destruction of the Droid Army before them, "that you have thrown quite hydrospanner into the best laid plans of both your Order and mine."

"I just wanted to do the right thing," Ahsoka muttered nervously, looking away from the Sith. "Seems that's a bit tougher than I expected."

"And when did a Jedi believe the right thing is to run to join the Sith," Anakin questioned.

"You've got other Jedi with you," Ahsoka argued back confidently. "Master Dooku, Quinlan Vos, Yarael Poof..."

"Ah Dooku," Anakin interrupted. "His arrival is imminent, though not as much needed thanks to whatever misdeeds you committed below."

"Yeah...," Ahsoka bit her lip, "about that. I have no clue why those droids just flipped like that, but I think Fafi had something up his sleeve before..."

Peering into the girl and sensing her discomfort and shame, not to mention an inordinate and concealed sense of pride, Anakin's lips turned up in a grin. "You killed him?"

"I didn't want to," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But...I couldn't help it. He...he..."

"He betrayed you," Anakin finished her sentence as the young girl stumbled over her words.

"Yeah...," Ahsoka agreed. "And he...he's an ass too."

Anakin and not a few clones broke out in laughter. "You're wiser than the average Padawan, Snips. But why come to me? You got your revenge. You got your escape."

"I...," the girl seemed uncertain again. "I'm not saying I want to help the Sith...but...I'm not entirely sure about what the Order is doing."

"You disagree with their actions," Anakin asked, clearly intrigued by the girl's doubt.

Ahsoka sighed as she continued her confession. "It seems a bit dirty what they did. And they just  _abandoned_  me to Fafi. But...they're still good, most of them. Many of them I still count as friends...I'd like to, at least. I don't want to see them all die. Especially the younglings."

Walking forward, he put his hand gently on the young girl's shoulder.

"I'm not a butcher, Ahsoka. I have no intentions of mass slaughter. But I will do what I have to do to save my wife."

"I didn't think you were," Ahsoka started, gulping even as she spoke, as if wavering in her decision with each alternating word, "if I could help you, if I could lead you to your wife without going through the entire Temple...will you spare them?"

Looking Ahsoka in the eye, Anakin answered her. "The Trade Federation army is being dismantled on both ends. Once they are wiped out, then we have more than enough troopers to secure the Temple. I cannot speak for how your Jedi will respond to those facts once they are presented with them, whether they will fight fruitlessly to the death, or surrender in peace. I assure you that while Padmé and I will defend ourselves, we have no intentions of genocide. Neither do Rex and his brothers."

All the clones nodded reassuringly at Ahsoka at those words. Anakin continued.

"I also promise you that we will not harm the younglings. If the Jedi continues to resist, I am commanding Rex and his men to set their weapons to stun when it comes to them."

"Thank you," Ahsoka said. Part of her felt like she was finally digging the last specks of dirt in her grave as she sealed her deal with the devil. But something inside her seemed to whisper that she could trust Anakin. And that same voice seemed to suggest that he trusted her too. "There's these tunnels, connecting the lower levels of the Temple to...well, the lower levels of the city. Most of the Masters don't even know about them. No one really uses them anymore, they're pretty grimey and disgusting, but several of them lead directly near the cells where your wife is probably being held."

Crossing his arms, Anakin started down at the girl with one raised eyebrow. "And how do  _you_  know about all this?"

"I...," Ahsoka hesitated again. But what was the point of holding this little piece of information back, when she had already committed everything else she had? "I used to sneak out sometimes. There's these swoop races they have down on the lower levels..."

She did not anticipate the giant grin that appeared on the Sith's face. Patting her back in almost a paternal gesture, Anakin laughed. "I have a feeling we'll make a good team, Snips."

Shaking her head, she looked over at Rex. "Is he always this snooty," she asked, boldly pointing at Anakin.

Rex laughed again. "Think he amps it up for you, kid."

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "Luuuuucky me."

* * *

"Pssst, Skyguy!" Ahsoka whispered as she crawled through the dank tunnels underneath the Temple. To her frustration, Anakin was far ahead of her, almost out of earshot.

"You know, my men address me as General Skywalker," a voice echoed back.

"Well I'm not one of your men," Ahsoka shot back indignantly. "I'm just helping you. Once. And that's it."

"And I appreciate it," Anakin said. He seemed to have stopped, and seconds later Ahsoka caught up to him.

"Do you even know where you're going," Ahsoka asked. To be honest, she was less concerned with the welfare of a Sith, and more annoyed that he was so much faster, and leaving her behind.

"I can sense her presence," Anakin replied with far more intensity than she expected. "We are close."

Ahsoka blinked, scrutinizing for the first time the young man before her, not much older than herself. "Force! You really do love her, don't you?"

"I would die a thousand deaths for her," Anakin said without a pause, though a bit too dramatically for her tastes. "This is the longest we've been apart save for that Sern Prime campaign, but we would comm each other at least twice a day whenever we're separated. To not speak to her, not know what she is thinking, whether she is angry, or in pain...," Anakin stopped, as if the concept was more painful than his words could elicit.

"I didn't know Sith were that into love," Ahsoka remarked awkwardly, suddenly feeling very uneasy at this Sith Lord's lovesick pronouncements. "You're worse than even those dumb holodramas Master Fisto secretly likes to watch." She had read about the two for years of course, ever since their involvement on Ryloth. While by all accounts they appeared to be a devoted couple, once the Sith revelation came out Ahsoka figured the relationship was mostly an image thing, that the two were in reality using each other, as did many of her friends in Temple. Apparently she was wrong.

Anakin shrugged, seemingly changing the subject suddenly back to her. "The Jedi will never take you back. Not after what you did, not after what you are doing now."

"No," Ahsoka admitted. She figured that her time with the Jedi was over the moment they left her rot in Fafi's cells. Before that even, perhaps when she made the decision to approach him in the first place. But Ahsoka didn't appreciate the Sith rubbing her face in it.

"Imagine Padmé and I anoint you now a Sith. Then we both immediately die. What would you do?"

"I guess," she thought carefully, "I guess I would do what I want to do. Be like a Jedi, but...the way I'd want the Jedi to be."

"I was not that much younger than you, and Padmé not much older, when we ended up in that position."

Ahsoka considered his words again. "And you chose not to become blood thirsty monsters."

"For the most part," Anakin replied with a sly grin, before disappearing once more into the tunnels.

"Damned Sith, always showing off," Ahsoka muttered to herself as she hurriedly scurried, keeping pace, arriving at a vent not long afterwards.

"We're below the cafeteria, near the trash receptacles," Ahsoka said, probing through the Force to see if there were any Jedi nearby. The area seemed empty, as the entire Order was clearly occupied trying to ward off the droid army above seemingly hell bent on destroying the entire temple. "The food prep halls lead to the bacta storage units, and the detention cells are above."

Pushing the vent open with the Force, Anakin looked back at the young girl. "I thank you sincerely, Padawan. You have done an invaluable service to both your kind and mine." He motioned into the tunnels back where they came from. "Now get out of here. You don't want to see what's coming next."

He was surprised Ahsoka's indignant reaction. "Force, what are you talking about, Skyguy? I've gone this far, I'm going to see this thing through!"

Anakin shook his head. "This isn't fun and games, kid. I'm going to fight Jedi. Kill them, in all likelihood."

Ahsoka scoffed. "It wasn't fun and games when I tried to arrest Nute Gunray either. I don't do half measures, Skyguy. And who knows? Maybe I'm precisely the one to talk you and the Masters away from bloody murder."

Anakin smiled at the girl skeptically. "I wish, young one. Padmé and I thought the same once too. But confrontation is inevitable."

"You have plenty of Jedi serving you," Ahsoka continued, protesting, though sensing that she was losing the battle. "Masters Dooku and Vos and Poof and all of them, and they're all in better standing with the Council than me!"

"They are adults, secure in their own galactic reputations, who made their own choice. Yoda and Windu are hedging their bets, still. I imagine Dooku and his companions will have plenty to answer to before the Council if the Jedi do prevail tonight."

"I don't know, Anakin," Ahsoka stared at the ground, unsure of how she could continue to press her case. "This just feels right. I've done so much against the Council already. It's not that I hate them, I don't...but I...I don't think you're all that bad. And I don't want to see you die."

Anakin shrugged, close to relenting. He could keep arguing, but valuable minutes were passing as they talked, and it was clear that he couldn't get rid of the little Padawan that easily. "Fine. If you want to burn the last bridge between you and the Order, so be it. They won't forgive you for helping me personally."

"Maybe I don't care," Ahsoka ventured. She surprised herself as she said the words, but she also didn't regret them either.

As Anakin considered the weight and implications of her words, he realized that it was too risky letting Ahsoka tag along. The young one was too spritely, too unpredictable, as clearly evidenced by everything she had already done. He could not afford unpredictability at this time.

"You're unarmed. It will be too dangerous." Having changed his mind on the brink of being persuaded, it was clear now that his words brooked no further room for debate, and Ahsoka sighed, knowing that she was not going to win this argument against a Sith Lord.

"Good luck with your wife Skyguy," she whispered, patting him gently on the elbow. "Try not to kill too many Jedi."

She watched as the young Sith nodded once in acknowledged before disappearing as the lift doors closed.

* * *

The few seconds he had to himself in the lift gave Anakin a chance to gather his thoughts. It was so tantalizing, he could feel his wife so close now...and there was  _something_  to her Force presence as well. But he couldn't give in to indulgence though, knowing it would take every fiber of his being and then some to be able to defeat the entire Jedi Order. He did not want to fight them. Like Padmé, their hatred was reserved for those in the galaxy who truly deserved it: slavers, Hutts, crime lords, the Banking Clans and Techno Union oligarchs he just swore to Rex that he would destroy...no, the Jedi were an annoyance, to be sure, but he did not hate them. Not even Obi-Wan. He did not want to duel him, Anakin realized. It felt wrong.

Five lightsabers simultaneously ignited the moment the lift doors opened, and Anakin took an inventory of his foes. Obi-Wan and Windu, he expected. There was a younger Miralian too, someone his age. Barriss Offee, he remembered, the girl having been Luminara Unduli's Padawan on Cato Neimodia. He felt hatred and fear emanate from her the moment her eyes set upon him.  _Good_ , he thought. That could be of some use.

"Ani," Padmé called eagerly the moment they felt each other's presence. Though she knew he could come, she still couldn't help feeling pure delight the moment she saw his face, vindicating her belief and confidence in him. She struggled fruitlessly against her restraints, hating how helpless she was, how, after years of planning and acting, there was nothing she could do except watch events unfold passively. She couldn't even blow him a kiss. She could only voice to him her undying faith. "I love you Ani. Whatever happens, you know that. And I know you'll make fools out of these Jedi."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan interrupted as the hatred crept into Padmé's voice, his green saber held firmly in front of him as the young Jedi crouched into a fighting stance, "we don't have to do this."

"I agree," Anakin retorted, smirking. "Let my wife go, and I will call off the Clone attack. You can deal with the droids yourself." He took a two steps forward, taking inventory of the spacious quarters in which the three Jedi positioned themselves between him and Padmé. "Better yet, offer Padmé a full and public apology, and I'll have Rex continue to press on until the Droids are destroyed. He and Master Dooku will be getting there soon themselves, anyway."

"You know we can't do that, Skywalker." It was Mace this time who spoke, his purple weapon hanging by his side almost casually. "Your false promises no longer hold sway."

"Believe me. Or don't. It's the lives of your own Jedi you are risking. Without word from me, my army will sweep through the Temple the moment they are finished with the droids, until they reach us down here."

"They will try," Mace said firmly. "They may succeed, they may not. But they will find nothing to salvage here."

Anakin narrowed his eyes menacingly as they started to glow yellow. "Are you insinuating that once you are done with me, you will murder Padmé in cold blood?"

"Of course not," Obi-Wan said with disgust. "We do not slaughter unarmed prisoners."

"Then you will die facing my army, and Padmé will triumph regardless. I will be glad of my sacrifice towards that end."

"Nonsense," they all heard the older Sith shout from behind. "Ani won't die, he will destroy you all."

"He is outnumbered," Obi-Wan remarked harshly, his voice almost pleading, trying to will reason into the two Siths. "He faces a Knight and two Masters of the Council, surely you both can see that!"

"Surrender to the Sith is not an option," Mace said, grabbing his weapon now with both hands and holding it horizontally before his shoulders, as if bracing for an imminent attack. "We can only trust that the will of the Force prevails."

"I'd like that," Anakin snarled, leaping into the fray eyes closed, using nothing but the Force to acclimate himself to the furious slashes coming his way from every direction. As he fought blindly, he let the Force speak to him, discerning the tactics and patterns of each opponent sight unseen, and adjusted his every movement solely towards fending off the attacks.

From Offee he sensed a rage and impatience that was all too predictable. From Mace Windu, the predictable unpredictability of his thrusts, as the senior Jedi utilized his unique Vaapad fighting style to strike snakelike against his defenses and keep him off balance. From both these Jedi he sensed a flirtation with darkness, realized or unrealized, sloppy or precise, and he adjusted his defenses accordingly, letting himself get pressed, allowing the two to imagine that they were gaining an advantage over him.

From Obi-Wan, however, he felt nothing. Nothing except cold, dispassionate, and lethal intent. His strikes came less often, but with more precision than the other two, ones that Anakin found himself straining to fend off most of all. Allowing the three Jedi to encircle him, he found his own defensive maneuvers easier, needing less distance between each parry as he twirled his body continuously, spinning around in the deadly dance, his lightsabers constantly striking back and forming an almost impenetrable perimeter against his opponents.

Sensing an escalation of both impatience and exhaustion from Offee, he struck, ducking over a vicious hack at his neck and, still holding on to his saber, sending a short but vicious burst of Sith lightning at her. The young Jedi was able to react in time to block the brunt of the attack with her saber, but screamed still in pain as the sheer intensity of the attack overwhelmed her last minute attempt at defense, and the Miralian found herself hurled back against an empty cell. Facing only two Jedi now, Anakin went on the offense, slashing at Mace and Obi-Wan furiously, each strike echoing through the Force with the sheer strength only a Chosen One of the Force could muster, and he watched with satisfaction as both Masters' shoulders quaked at each defensive blow. His movements became less predictable as he criss crossed each jab and parry, his sabers dancing through the room as if in a death stick fueled frenzy, zigging left and right, zagging up and down, his torso contorting impossibly with every half step as he pushed the two Jedi towards one of the empty cells next to Padmé.

"Still think me a child, Master Kenobi," he taunted effortlessly as he noticed the Jedi wearing down, particularly the older Windu. Narrowing his eyes at him, he addressed the senior Jedi directly. "Depa Bilaba was your Padawan, was she not?" The Korun Jedi did not respond verbally, but Anakin could tell from his movements and the added intensity of his strikes that he his words had made an impact, so he continued. "She murdered her fellow Jedi, Master Sifo-Dyas, in cold blood. But I avenged him. Do you know what she did when I choked the life out of her?"

Somersaulting backwards away from the two furious Jedi, he shouted as his body was suspended in the air. "She shit herself."

As he landed next to the barely conscious Barriss, with Mace charging furiously, he pivoted his left shoulder across his body with deathly aim at the younger Knight. As he predicted, Mace dove face forward to fend off Barriss's death blow...fatally leaving the rest of his body open to Anakin, whose red blade on his right hand twisted up and around his left arm, his entire body spinning through the air as his blade pierced the Jedi's spine, emerging cleanly through his chest. A quick and sharp bellow of pain and disappointment, and Mace fell dead next to Barriss, who Anakin stabbed rapidly through her chest in good measure.

He turned his attention to Obi-Wan, who had just watched both his companions die within seconds. Anakin could feel the unrest within his heart as well, though he hid it better than his fellow Jedi. Pointing both his lightsabers at the ground at a downward angle, he addressed his old friend.

"I didn't want to kill them, but I can say at least they died quickly. And honorably. You don't have to fall victim to their fate."

Showing no fear, Obi-Wan brandished his weapon calmly back at the Sith. "Nothing is predetermined. And I have no plans on becoming a victim."

"No you don't," Anakin responded calmly. "Always the unassuming aggressor, aren't you, Kenobi?"

Without warning, he rushed forward and attacked the Jedi with a furious onslaught of barrages, his dual lightsabers flying so quickly that they were nothing but a blur of blue and red for any casual observer, yet Anakin noted with frustration the complete lack of progress he was making. Not only was Obi-Wan almost effortlessly reacting to every jab he had, but the damned Jedi managed to not just evade his slashes, but identify and strike at his vulnerabilities in between movements, forcing him on defense even as he pressed ahead.

 _He's using my aggression against me_ , Anakin realized, and slowed down the tempo of his movements, letting his sabers dance around him, enough to keep Obi-Wan on the defensive, but tempting the Jedi to strike against him. Sure enough, Obi-Wan did so, but Anakin realized that the man was not trying to cut him in half with one slice as he had been, but rather taking aim at his wrists and elbows, patient movements more easily gained that would never the less seriously disable him and end the fight. Adjusting to the flow of the duel, Anakin twirled his weapons, swinging further arcs around the Jedi, expanding the range of area Obi-Wan needed to defend with his sole saber, forcing him to reach further and further with each defensive parry. And knowing that he held the advantage in sheer power, Anakin managed to land each blow, however fleeting, with impossible strength and intensity, noticeably wearing down the Jedi with each continuing second.

Sensing the danger, Obi-Wan fell to the ground, kicked viciously at Anakin, forcing the young Sith to jump up and giving himself time to roll backwards several feet. Rising again, both assailants on their feet once more, they gauged each other after this first round of single combat.

"You cannot win," Anakin said, trying to give the Jedi yet another chance to save his own life. "I am stronger, I am faster, and I  _will_  prevail." Something about dueling Obi-Wan felt impossibly wrong, which Anakin chalked up to their brief bond as Master and Padawan, not thoroughly dissolved by the Force just yet. Yet something about their fight felt also nauseously right, that even if their duel defied the Force itself, it was nevertheless destined to occur so no matter what path each individual chose. But, remembering his promise to Quinlan, and feeling his own distaste for the amount of blood shed already today, Anakin wished fervently that the Jedi would see reason and relent.

"Yet I will continue on," Obi-Wan replied defiantly, hiding the exhaustion in his words. "What use would the Jedi be to the galaxy if we surrendered in the face of every lost cause?"

"Don't lecture me about the justification of causes, Obi-Wan," Anakin shot back, feeling his anger rise again against the grain of his more merciful inclinations. "Was my mother a lost cause, Obi-Wan? Would you have let her toil in slavery?"

"I don't know," Obi-Wan conceded with shocking honesty. "I was young when Qui-Gon died. Perhaps too young to train a student of your abilities. But what mistakes I may have made do not justify the greater evil of the Sith."

"So stubborn are you," Anakin asked, "that you still refuse, even in the end, to entertain the idea that the Sith have changed?"

"Based on everything I've personally witnessed," Obi-Wan replied defiantly, "I'm not willing the risk the fate of the galaxy on the empty promises of two strangers."

His rebuke stung Anakin, even though there was no reason for it to have. Deciding that further talk was fruitless, he went to launch himself for a final, fatal assault on the Jedi when they both felt through the Force yet another ripple, a foreboding sense of danger.

In between them and the danger, however, was a young Togruta girl who burst into the room. "Anakin," she yelled. Seeing Obi-Wan, she instinctively reverted to her deferential Padawan reflexes. "Master Kenobi. Consular Amidala," she nodded to the detained Sith, acknowledging everyone present, noting gravely the bodies of the two dead Jedi on the ground before pointing back towards the lift. "The droids...they've breached the tunnels! One of them must have seen our approach...and there's an entire squadron on their way!"

"Sith kriff," Anakin swore angrily. In his intense focus on taking down the three Jedi keeping him from Padmé, he had neglected his senses for any other areas of danger. Now, both he and Obi-Wan both felt too late the ominous approach of ever more battle droids. Without warning, Obi-Wan somersaulted himself high into the air, landing backwards onto a large crate on the opposite side of the detention hall from Padmé.

"Don't try it," he warned sternly. "I have the high ground."

Studying the stern, resolute look in the Jedi's grey blue eyes, Anakin understood immediately his intentions. While Obi-Wan would never kill an unarmed prisoner...he was prepared to let one die nevertheless. Bound and defenseless, Padmé Amidala, Lady of the Sith, was no match for a squadron of battle droids. And the unyielding yet sorrowful expression in his eyes told Anakin all that he needed to know, that if he turned away to fend off the droids, Obi-Wan would engage him, and distract him long enough for the droids to achieve their deadly aim. He could toss one of his lightsabers to Ahsoka, but able as she was, there was no guarantee that she could take on an entire squadron singlehandedly, and all that would accomplish was to lessen both their odds at survival.

With time running out, Anakin made his decision. He jumped, flipping through the air as he heaved himself upwards at the Jedi, and cried out as his body convulsed at the sheer intensity of the pain.


	16. Chapter 16

The entire scene was so damned cliche, the dashing, handsome young hero rescuing the beautiful but hapless princess. Padmé herself would have laughed in a vacuum, if she wasn't sitting in the middle of it, and if there wasn't so much at stake. Helpless to do anything but watch the duel, hands still bound behind her, she found herself filled with pride as her husband put into practice the years of training under her against the fiercest of the Jedi, using every tactic and trick she had taught him to dispatch in short order two of the three he faced. He had identified Barriss Offee, the weak link first, and taken her out. He goaded on Master Windu, and though the senior Councilor had maintained his composure, he had nevertheless been affected, even to a minute degree, enough so that he could not help himself when Anakin then played his sense of compassion and duty against him. It was dirty, the way he killed Windu, and Padmé had to admit that, despite everything that had transpired, despite the bad feelings, Mace Windu had died nobly.

As for Obi-Wan, that was to be seen. Anakin was clearly winning the duel, slowly overpowering and exhausting the older Jedi. Strangely enough, Padmé felt no bloodlust towards the man who had taken away her freedom. There had been so much death already today, whether they died by Anakin's or the Droid Army's hand, so that the idea of any more left a bitter taste in her mouth. She just wanted it over, this last obstacle. And to be held by her husband again. And to be able to tell him, once they were both free, the thrilling news.

Anticipation turned to horror the moment the young Togruta girl ran into the room. So focused they had all been on the fight at hand, none of them had sensed the danger from the incoming droids. And deadly they would be, at least to her, but peering down at her stomach, her thoughts were centered not around her own life. She watched as Obi-Wan made his move, setting the trap, and had to stingily admire the inherent cleverness in it, even his intent was her own death. And her unborn child, a secret she had kept from the Jedi, whether it be for practical reasons or spite. Now, because of Obi-Wan's ignorance of this, her stubbornness may now have doomed more than just herself. Reaching out towards Anakin with a panicked urgency, she felt back from him the stinging realization of Obi-Wan's decision, and then steely resolve.

The moment Anakin somersaulted in the air above him, Obi-Wan understood. He understood the deadly play, and that he had no choice but to let it play out. As the Sith whirled through the air towards him swinging both sabers furiously at him, Obi-Wan took the opening, because to refuse would have meant his immediate demise. Anakin swung wide at the Jedi with his right, bright red saber, and screamed in pain as Obi-Wan cut through his elbow to fend off what would have been the lethal blow. And yet, gritting through the pain, Anakin completed his second motion, swinging his left blade through Obi-Wan's shoulder before the Jedi had a chance to pivot back from his defensive strike. Their screams joined each other in unison, and seconds later Anakin felt himself crashing onto the floor, Obi-Wan's crumpled body under him.

He acted instantly, throwing his blue blade at Ahsoka, who caught it despite her shock at what had just transpired. Rolling away from the dazed Jedi, he took his left hand and used what strength he had left to Force shove the man violently against the nearest wall, knocking him unconscious. Trying to focus despite the building pain, he moved the fingers on his remaining hand, groping Obi-Wan's prone body until he found the keys, extracting them and hurling them rapidly through the air towards the young Padawan.

"Hurry, Ahsoka," he shouted. "We don't have much time left."

They could hear the drumbeats of the droid battalion, and Ahsoka somehow managed to not fumble the keys as she opened the doors to the Sith lady's cells. Staring at her eyes, she paused a half moment before running behind her to unclip her binders.

"Thank you," she heard Padmé whisper, and in an instant the Sith was gone from the cell, disappearing with a gust of wind as she called both lightsabers from the grips of their respective amputated hands, grimacing with distaste thinking about the one that had been Anakin's less than a minute before. Immersing herself in the Force as deeply as she ever had, Darth Mirayya cut through the newly arrived droids like an untamed storm, her body lost in the blurry dance of light and death. Ahsoka helped too, dispatching what droids she could, and even Anakin contributed, shooting dark Sith lightning out at stray droids from where he lay sprawled on the other side of the room, trying to aim away from the two immediately engaged combatants. But for the most part Ahsoka stayed out of the way, watching with awe as this Sith lady destroyed with deadly precision the entire onslaught of the attack.

It took a long time, but then it was over, and Amidala ran over without prelude to Anakin, hovering over him less than a second before the last dismembered droid torso clanged onto the ground.

"Does it hurt," she asked tenderly, stroking his face repeated as she kissed his forehead and his lips.

"I'll survive," Anakin said, chest heaving as the high of the battle dissipated away, leaving him with a fatigue he had never experienced before in his short life. Reaching his senses outward, he got the sense that the siege against the droid army was also coming to an end. "We did it, Padmé. It's over."

"You did well, Ani," Padmé whispered, beaming proudly even as she felt her heart gasp in pain at her husband's suffering. She reached gently for his surviving hand, pulling it towards so that he was palming the small of her stomach. "You saved me. You saved us. Never again will we have to face this. Will  _I let_  us face this."

She had anticipated for so long Anakin's reaction, from the moment she found out herself en route to that fateful summit on Coruscant, but her husband's knowing smile took her by surprise.

"They are amazing, Padmé," he said, amplifying her confusion. "You will love them so, so much."

"They?"

"Twins, Padmé!"

"How? How did you know?"

Despite the pain and exhaustion, Anakin laughed, feeling as lightheaded as he was when he was a child, trying to become the first human to win a podrace. It was rare for him to get one over his wife like this, and he intended to savor it. "I saw them in a vision. Luke. And Leia. They are our everything. They gave me the clarity of mind to pull this off."

"Luke. Leia." Padmé said the words softly, testing them out, grasping how they felt on her tongue. It seemed surreal that her own children already had names, but it felt so right, as if these names, etched permanently in the Force itself, were what she and Anakin would have picked out on their own, together, had they the chance. Joining her husband in joyous laughter, the Dark Lady of the Sith marveled in the miracles of the Force. "That's so wonderful, Ani. Luke. Leia. Luke. Leia."

Ahsoka watched awkwardly the two Sith exchange kisses and whispers on the floor, lost in their own world for what seemed to her an eternity. What the hell was going on, she wondered? She guessed it was better that they weren't trying to slaughter more Jedi, especially considering that she was most complicit in their triumph over the Jedi, but this was just weird. Did they realize that they weren't alone, that she was still standing here, nothing to do but watch them whisper sweet nothings? Force, how did these Siths manage to accomplish anything? How did they even manage to get out of bed in the morning, much less take over a galaxy, the way they acted around each other?

Ahsoka breathed a sigh of relief as she approach of several familiar Clones, and sure enough, the entrance of Kix and Appo were enough the break the two siths out of their lovesick reverie.

"General," Kix ran apologetically up to the fallen Sith, "Consular. I apologize for the delay. We saw the Droid Army enter the tunnels but had to fight our way through."

"We took care of it," Padmé said, rising and brushing off the creases of her dress. "How goes the battle above?"

"The droid army is destroyed," Appo relayed with pride. "We await your orders on the final siege on the Jedi temple."

Padmé paused in thought. As she surveyed the grisly remains of the room, she noticed for the first time the bodies of the fallen Jedi Masters amidst the wrecked droids...as well as the still unconscious form of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"Let's see what the Jedi have to say now that they have brought the war to their own doorsteps," Padmé decided, the war-hardened politician's voice replacing that of the doting wife and mother. She motioned back towards the tunnels from where the clones emerged. "And we need to get my husband to some bacta on the  _Liberator_."

Appo nodded, walking immediately to pick up the young General. Padmé looked over to Kix. "Take him with us too," she said, pointing at Obi-Wan. "He needs treatment as well."

* * *

The emerged before the front steps of the Jedi Temple in the middle of the silent standoff, Padmé leading the way. Beside her Anakin walked limply, though he was helped by Appo or another clone at all times. With Obi-Wan already shipped to the  _Liberator_ , Ahsoka stood uncertainly beside the two Siths, their own Jedi companion. She fought the urge to look at Master Plo Koon, who stood with Shaak Ti and Eeth Koth at the head of the Temple's defense. Facing them were Rex and Dooku, both of whom looked at her for direction the moment she arrived.

"It's over," Padmé said calmly but authoritatively to the Jedi gathered. "Surrender, and no one else need die."

Studying Dooku, the former Jedi now standing before his old brethren, she sensed a lingering sadness in his eyes. He did not want to have to turn his blade against more of his own, but she knew he would, if given the order. One which Padmé really hoped she didn't have to give.

"You ask us to trust the word of a Sith," Shaak Ti shouted aggressively, blade still lit in her hand. "How can we believe you won't slaughter us all the moment we surrender?"

"The Galaxy is watching," Padmé answered evenly. "I ask you to trust me has a politician whose word is her most valuable commodity. I ask you to trust your former colleague and Council member, who wishes as much as I to end this fruitless conflict before it escalates to more dangerous places. I ask you to trust General Rex and his brothers, who chose to defy their very essences and follow us to Coruscant for the sake of principles and loyalty, rather than bloodlust."

"We have never been the ones to instigate conflict against your kind," Anakin stammered out, hurt but stubbornly standing at the forefront of the confrontation, "but our abilities should not preclude us from the right to defend ourselves from those who seek to destroy us."

Plo Koon stepped forward, and Ahsoka noticed him look at her for a brief moment before he turned back to the soon to be Sith dictator. The emotions she felt from him, the Jedi who had rescued her from bondage so many years ago, had been concern, not disappointment as she feared.

"What are your terms of surrender then," the Kel-Dorian Jedi asked.

"Understand that in lieu of the illegal actions taken against me by members of your Order, the Clone Armies will need to secure the Jedi Temple as well as all sensitive areas on planet such as the Senate building, with an immediate integration plan subsequently put into place with the Coruscanti Guard, under the authority of the Alliance. The Order may keep their weapons, and Clones will refrain from intruding into the Temple with the exception of basic medical and logistical needs, if required. In return, a complete ceasefire between the Jedi Order and Alliance forces."

Eeth Koth spoke up for the first time. "Do you still speak for the Alliance, Amidala? I understood that Consulars Organa and Mothma removed you from your position."

Padmé looked around the wreckage of a billion droid debris parts, many of them still smoking, surrounded by some bodies of both fallen Jedi Knights as well as Clones, and replied with mirth, "I think in the current state of things I am the  _only_  authority in the Galaxy, period. Consulars Organa and Mothma defied both the will of the people as well as their own Senators with their actions. Mistakes will be rectified, and the Alliance will cease to exist once the new political order is determined by those who still retain the credibility in the eyes of the people."

"You, in essence," Shaak Ti said with dismay, still holding her saber beside her. "You alone plan to decide who gets to speak and who gets to rule." Her tone resentful and bitter, she nevertheless disengaged her weapon, Plo Koon and Eeth Koth following her lead as the highest ranking Council member present.

"As a Padawan, I never imagined that I would have been the one to surrender the Jedi Temple to the Sith," the Togrutan master continued, shaking her head in sadness. She couldn't help but flinch as Amidala took two steps towards her, but found in her eyes not anger or murderous intent, but maybe even compassion?

"Your failure is complete," Padmé whispered softly. "Too many have died for the mistakes of a few. Let pride be the last of what you lose today."

As all the gathered Jedi Knights and Padawans dispatched their weapons, following the lead of the three masters, Padmé breathed a sigh of the relief. There would be further offensives once her power was cemented, starting with an expansive campaign against the Hutt Empire, but for the time being, the Clone Wars were over. The war that she had engineered, manipulated, almost single-handedly, the war that had cost so many lives, innocent or not, was won. Like so many whose lives had been affected by it, neither her nor Anakin would emerge from it the same person, her husband literally disfigured like so many of the war's actors, and she realized it was proper that they bore scars, a small price for what they inflicted upon so much in the galaxy. It was for the greater good, true, but it was for the sake of her power as well. It would be her duty then, to ensure that the two were one and the same for as long as she ruled.

* * *

The Dark Lady of the Sith seemed transfixed at the sight of the young man floating suspended in the bacta tank, naked from the pants up, the stump of his right arm still in the beginning stages of healing. The nearby tank holding Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi she paid less attention to, though she had insisted that he receive the same medical care as her husband. It was a good gesture, she decided, a way to demonstrate to the galaxy,  _her_  galaxy, the lengths of her magnanimity, by sparing the very Jedi who behind the conspiracy, the coup, against her. And, Padmé admitted to herself in her mind, she did have a long history with this particular Jedi, and something told her that this old acquaintance...sometimes friend...sometimes enemy...had yet a role to play in the future.

"Magnificent, isn't he?" She barely noticed herself talking to the young Togruta girl, who had spared them all what would have been a very lengthy siege on the Temple, one which would have been so deadly for many on both sides.

"Eh, he's something I guess," Ahsoka said, trying not to roll her eyes. On their own, these two Siths seemed alright, and they had honored their promises to her to be merciful towards her old order. But everything about them together, the whole completely and obliviously and obsessively in love with each other thing, was way too much for her. Way too weird. "Too talkative for my tastes. And a bit too pale as well."

"Did you lose anyone you cared about during the siege?"

The Sith seemed to genuinely care about her feelings, and Ahsoka thought carefully before she replied. "No. I was lucky. But many others were not."

"Soon there will be a time for healing," Padmé said, and Ahsoka sensed that she did not mean that for just the Jedi.

"Once you declare yourself Empress or something?" The Sith had not made her aims explicit, but Ahsoka could guess just as much. The entire Senate building had been taken over by the 501st shortly after the Jedi's surrender, and most of the remaining Senators of the Republic were under detainment, including Nute Gunray, who apparently floated in and out of consciousness. Detained but in more pleasant quarters as well were Amidala's former allies, Bail Organa and Mon Mothma. Rumors had it that the Sith had personally executed several Senators the moment she walked into the Senate chambers where much of the remaining Republic members hid, huddled in fear. Including Rush Clovis, whom she apparently beheaded in the name of her husband. It seemed a bit distasteful, but it was not something Ahsoka, who had her own politician's blood upon her conscience, was in any place to speak up against. And she wondered how much she cared anyway. Politics had never really been her thing.

"Senator Wipper'lom's motion has yet to pass," Padmé said, shrugging. The twi'lek Senator, now considered her closest political ally after Bail and Mon's betrayal, introduced within minutes of Coruscant's fall a sweeping motion abolishing both the current Senates of the Alliance and Republic. Democracy was not completely wiped out, of course. New elections would inaugurate an entirely new Senate, but under the authority of one absolute power. It didn't take a political genius to guess who would fill that role, and who the new Senate would owe their allegiances to.

"It will," Ahsoka said plainly. "I think its pretty obvious that you could win any election between here and Chiss space, Consular."

"Please. Call me Padmé."

"Padmé," she said, enunciating each syllable, as if the way she said the words could help her come to terms with how she felt about this Sith Master.

"Be honest, Ahsoka," Padmé said, taking several steps towards Ahsoka until the two diminutive women stood closely face to face. "What do you think of me? What do you see in me?"

"I see darkness," Ahsoka started, trying to decide whether she should be honest, or diplomatic in her response, "...but I see light too. Light so bright it blinds me. Darkness so encompassing...that it dulls all my senses completely. I feel hate. I feel love. I mean, especially towards Darth Skyguy over there,  _obviously_." She closed her eyes, trying to extend the reach of her feelings towards the soul of the Sith, and surprisingly, she felt little resistance from her. "I feel...weakness...and courage. I feel that...you are determined to accomplish everything you desire. Yet you...feel doubt, every single day, but you force yourself to face it every minute you are awake to achieve your goals. You feel...human, I guess. Sentient. Like all of us."

"Even the Jedi?"

Did they have to bring that subject up? Her former affiliation was the last thing she wanted to contemplate, but it seemed like the Sith was onto something. The sooner Ahsoka dealt with it, the sooner she could move past it. And that urge to move on was revealing by itself. She gave Padmé a slight nod. "Yes. Even the Jedi, though I doubt any one of them would admit it."

"Are you a Jedi?"

"I'd always thought so. Now...I don't know."

"What do you feel?"

Ahsoka remembered Master Yoda asking her the same question many times in the Temple, albeit in a different dialect. She figured some things didn't change, Jedi or Sith. "I feel...so many different things."

She still wondered whether she could trust this Sith. There was something different about Amidala in person, compared to how she portrayed herself before the holonets. The former Senator seemed much more subdued, withdrawn from her more public, very assertive, persona. But was the discrepancy just an act? Or was it possible, Ahsoka wondered as she delved deeper into her mind, that even this Sith lord had emerged changed from the recent war, and her brief detainment?

Sensing that she was at a loss of words, Padmé, surprisingly, confided in her instead. "From the moment I could retain memory I remember feeling fear. You would understand, wouldn't you? That feeling the Force whispers upon your ears, even though you're too young, or too naive, to understand what it's trying to tell you?"

"Maybe."

"As a Jedi, they mold such feelings to fit their Code. They teach you to repress your fears enough, and eventually you'll believe that you've released it. Removed and eliminated it." Padmé shook her head, her disgust at the Jedi doctrine obvious. "As a child on growing up on Naboo I just...I just let it be. I didn't ignore it but...I didn't think deeply about it either. But it taught me to be be wary. And it taught me to fight."

"What was that fear like," Ahsoka asked. Despite her better judgment, the introspection from this Sith master intrigued her. Was this how she had won over the Chosen One as well? "Could you...could you describe it? What did it center around?"

"That I was destined to play a victim," Padmé blurted out calmly but surely without any hesitation, "with no say over my fate, my agency. That I was destined to be helpless, subject to the whims of greater forces in the galaxy, unless I fought against it, scratched and clawed every step of the way. That's why I got into politics at such an early age, I think. In my mind, if I could mold the world into the perfect place, then I would not have to fear the unthinkable. It was not much later that I would learn how misguided that idea was...but it was also why I said yes when I was approached by Sidious, I believe now. He offered me power, and I thought that power would save me, help me conquer my fears. I was...so, so wrong...but the Force gave me a second chance to change the script. To kill Sidious. To save myself, to save Anakin, and claim him as my own. To claim control over my own fate."

"Now you control the galaxy." Ahsoka said this without any judgment. It was simply a statement of fact.

"I do not presume any such claim is permanent. I know I can't bend the Force entirely to my will. No one can, save maybe Anakin. But I do know that I have pushed the Force to my benefit as much as I possibly could. That is all I can ask of myself, and of what the Force will allow me."

Padmé looked back at Anakin, the young man not so much older than Ahsoka herself, as if she could not go half a conversation, no matter how deep or engaged, without thinking of her husband.

"He could teach you, you know?"

"What do you mean?" Her words caught Ahsoka off guard. These two Siths were so close knit, sickeningly so, that Ahsoka was surprised either one would allow aher, a complete outsider, to penetrate their tight inner cirlce.

"There is nothing more he can learn from me. In many ways, he has surpassed me in strength, and in wisdom. He is destined to be a teacher though, and it would do him good. Force knows I learned more than probably he did in our years of training."

Ahsoka heard not a small amount of pride in Padmé's words as she described her husband and student. "You...you're not worried?"

"About what," Padmé asked in a way that truly reflected a complete lack of concern.

"The Rule of Two. I...I snuck into the Temple archives when they announced you were Siths and looked up the history. You're not worried that I would turn against you? That...that I could turn him against you?" Even as she said the words, Ahsoka was answering her own question in her mind. These two Siths were bound together by the Force itself, and close as she may get to either one of them, she could never substitute either one of them. And that realization, surprisingly, made her feel secure in an odd way, the thought that they would bestow her approval when she earned it, but that she also did not need to overreach and lose herself in trying to prove herself. The same could not be said for her years under Master Fisto, whose typical Jedi passiveness...coldness, she realized now, had pushed her towards the very actions that got her abandoned by the Order.

"No," Padmé replied, confirming what Ahsoka had already come to conclude on her own. "I do not foresee that. I trust Anakin with my life, and I feel that I can trust you. Besides, he will not teach you to be a Sith. Not unless you want to."

"I don't think I want to...yet. I don't think I'd be ready."

"I thought that. No. He will teach you to be the best  _Ahsoka_ , whatever that word will come to mean. I will, too."

She saw the sincerity in Padmé's eyes, and felt for the first time a sense of acceptance. A sense of home. A thought came to her again, one that had been building for some time, that she was never meant to be a Jedi. And she felt relief that there was no pressure for her now to join the Sith Order, whatever those words meant these days. It felt right, she thought, that she could understand both Orders, and yet be separate from both.

Ahsoka smiled at Padmé, beaming in gratitude at the woman for knowing, for understanding that she needed to find her own way through her life. "You're going to be a great mother, you know?"

"Thank you, snips." Padmé smiled when she used the nickname her own husband had unknowingly bestowed upon his future student. Patting her on her head, the Sith moved to leave the room, and Ahsoka felt her aura hardening. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must take my leave, for there is but one act left for me to play in this charade."


	17. Chapter 17

The Far Islands resort quarters in Coruscant was far from a prison, though Padmé knew they would not see it that way. Though it was far from what Bail and Mon deserved for betraying her, wouldn't Padmé had done the same thing in their shoes, had she not been a Sith, forever tainted from years of torture and brainwashing from Sidious? They had thought her a close friend not long ago, and Padmé herself had even believed it sometimes, as deeply she was immersed in the role she played. Yet parts of her hated intently her two former Co-Consulars not for standing against her, but for who they were, because she recognized that Bail Organa and Mon Mothma were the politicians, nay human being, she would have been, were she unmolested by the Dark.

Bail was monitoring the holonets passively when she entered their chambers, Mon writing something furiously, in all likelihood some kind of manifesto denouncing their former friend and ally. Both hurriedly turned off their devices when they heard her enter and swerved to face her. Bail seemed to resonate resignation, while Mon's pale eyes stared daggers at her. Wishing to avoid as much as possible any sort of scene, Padmé spoke first.

"Senator Wipper'lom's Resolutions of Reunion have passed the Alliance Senate. All that remains to conclude this war is for the Consulars to sign their approval."

"Don't hide behind semantics, Padmé." Mon Mothma did little to hide her disgust at the friend she had trusted, the one who had betrayed all their principles. "We've read the terms. It's basically the ratification of an Empire. Congratulations, Padmé, you're an Empress. Can't you leave us alone now?"

"Not yet," Padmé said quietly. She stood still before the doorway of the suite, the empty space between them in the small lobby feeling like an impassible chasm. "Not until you've completed your last political legacy."

"You expect us to vote for it," Bail noted with increasing horror. "Not only do you want to ruin us, you want us to destroy whatever reputations we still retain?"

"Your reputations you ruined yourselves," Padmé stated indifferently, no condemnation in her voice. "Considering this legislation does essentially crown me an Empress, it is only proper that I abstain from the vote. It will be ratified, there is no question about that. If you decline, Kara will call for new Consulars to be elected. But approval by my allies, the ones who stood by me at the formation of the Alliance, would present an example of unity for the rest of the Galaxy."

Mon sneered. "You want us to sell our souls for your sake? What happens if we decline? Do you kill us? Slaughter us like you did the Jedi or your own Queen? Torture us, like you have been all the Senators you've locked up without even a trial?"

"No," Padmé said, her composure never faltering. "I will allow events to take their predestined course. Your betrayal ensures that you will lose whatever election that will takes place, and you will be forced to retire in disgrace."

"Why would you even want our votes then," Bail asked sadly, "considering how little influence you claim we have?"

"Because along with your votes," Padmé replied, "you will issue statements formally apologizing for your actions cooperating with Fafi and the Jedi. You will state that you were misled by their lies, their misguided ideology, that you regret the events and the casualties resulting from your actions. But you have learned from your mistakes, and thus you endorse the Empire and its monarchs with your full confidence, because you trust that it is the only way to achieve a secure and lasting peace. You will then retire with your blessings to me and my husband, with the firm hope that your final political act will mark the beginnings of your rehabilitation, that one day, posterity may forgive you for your crimes."

"In your dreams," Bail screeched out, the angriest Padmé had ever seen him. But ignoring his indignant reply, she continued.

"Failing that, not only will you be disgraced, but so will your entire worlds. Alderaan and Chandrila will find new representatives to take your place, but any persons elected will find themselves sitting permanently in the backbench. Aid will trickle down to a minimum, taxes will be increased, trade routes will be altered to pass your planets by. Your worlds will become backwaters, eclipsed even by worlds such as Tatooine. Your people will suffer, mired permanently in poverty...all for the sake of your own personal egos. This is  _your_  test, my fellow Consulars. What matters more to you? Your own personal reputations, or the constituents you claim to represent?"

"You're evil," Bail Organa said solemnly after a long silence. "From the beginning, you've take advantage of the honesty and honor of your peers. I see that every day you've used our own better natures against us. You claim to hold true to the same principles, but you've built your entire career and reputation by leeching on to our integrity, sucking it away from us until, once you get your power, you dispose of our wasted husks."

"All our years working together," Mon Mothma added, "what I thought was a friendship...they were all lies, weren't they? You never cared for Bail and I. You never cared for the principles we stood for...democracy, freedom. And now, you think nothing of destroying not just us, but entire planets, planets that once supported you with all their hearts and souls, all for the sake of this Empire you crave...this Empire you've probably plotted from the very beginning!"

"Don't you dare throw out that word," Padmé retorted, breaking her composure for the first time. "Friendship? You were the ones who betrayed me, and gave me away to the Jedi!"

"Because we discovered the truth," Mon shouted back. "That you never meant a word you said to us! That our entire relationship was built upon lies!"

"And how easily you believed them," Padmé said, feeling herself lose control once more. "Do you know why you were so drawn to me? So eager to believe every my every word? Because you feared me, yet you wished you were me, because I was everything you hoped you could be!"

"You're mad," Bail exclaimed, wondering how he could have been fooled by a madwoman Sith for so long.

"Think about it," Padmé said, calming down, deepening her breaths, letting her speech emerge one controlled word at a time. "You are idealists. You came into politics with the highest hopes, thinking you could change the Galaxy. Yet how quickly did you find yourselves bogged down in the depths of the bureaucracy, the corruption, letting go your ideals for the sake of process and protocol? Letting yourselves be manipulated by the likes of Orn Free Taa and appeasing your consciences by calling it reasonable and compromise, all while the galaxy continued to deteriorate and sentients continued to suffer under your watch? You see me take the stage, you see me act without reservation, and you know that awakened a part of you, one where your idealistic, childhood dreams still lived, a piece of you that's lain dormant from the moment you understood what you had to give up to survive in politics. That's why you followed me without hesitation. To secession. To war. That's why all of your other colleagues will continue to follow me into Empire, because I  _act_  when you dare not."

"You may be correct about us," Bail conceded after another long pause. "But that does not make you right in your intentions. You speak as if dictatorship is the only path, as if democracy never had a chance..."

"I gave it a chance," Padmé responded harshly. "I introduced legislation which should have been harmless, legislation to enforce the laws that already existed against slavery. It should have been a Corellian slam dunk, yet we all saw that it caused the greatest political firestorm the Senate had seen since Ruusan. To me, democracy died in that moment, yet I gave it another chance to redeem itself."

"With Nute Gunray," Bail asked, the pieces finally clicking in place for him. "How much of that crisis on Cato Neimoidia did you actually cause..."

"We'll never know," Padmé shrugged, forcefully brushing off Bail's implication. Bail's  _correct_  implication. "And it matters not. I did nothing to influence the election. Each Senator voted knowingly. Nute Gunray won. What system which allows Nute Gunray to win deserves to survive?"

Moving towards the two former Senators, ignoring them as they recoiled back in horror at her advance, Padmé handed them each a datapad, the legislation pulled up and ready for their signatures.

"I don't deny democracy has its flaws," Mon conceded as she reviewed the text. It was a farce, of course, there was no point to her reading the fine print as if democracy still mattered, but she couldn't help herself nevertheless. "But who are you to be its judge, to decide whether it lives or dies?"

"Politics is after all a game. I moved when others wouldn't, where others wouldn't. I won. I decide, because I won, because there is no one left in the galaxy who can." Padmé smiled at her, a gesture that sent shivers down Mon Mothma's spine. "It is my  _destiny_ , don't you see? It would have happened regardless. The path was sealed the moment you stood with me on Naboo and declared our separation from the Republic. You tried to fight me with your little coup, and in doing so, only made it easier for me to claim my rightful throne, because you simply  _cannot_  fight the tide, the will of the Force."

"You will not rule forever," Bail said grudgingly as he signed the resolution. "Every Sith in the history of the galaxy has failed. You are not the exception."

Padmé laughed, a sound genuine enough as if she actually found true humor in Bail's words. "I agree, Organa. Power is cyclical. One day my dynasty will fall. But you are wrong. I  _am_  the exception. You should know better, that I will not make the mistakes of the past, that I will not rule as a Sith."

"How will you rule," Mon asked fearfully, looking up as her fingers penned her assent to the Empire as well.

"As Amidala. As the Amidala you followed into the depths of war. As the Amidala the galaxy has grown to revere."

* * *

He was alive, that was his first reaction. He lay in a penthouse apartment rather than some detention cell, that was his second reaction. Rising from the rather plush bed, he strode out to the viewport and glimpsed the Jedi Temple across the way. Though he could see the damage from the recent siege, reaching out with the Force towards the only home he knew, he felt...a normal state of things. His brothers and sisters, brethren, sentients, living, meditating, practicing their katas as they had done for millennia. He felt immense relief, relief he did not try to stem as he should, as a Jedi. He lifted his right hand, studying its brand new prosthetic parts, testing his fingers, the movements they made at the command of his brain, a tangible and permanent reminder of his defeat in the Temple, memories of which flooded back into his consciousness.

From his viewpoint, he located himself in 500 Republica. Grunting grudgingly to himself, he searched the apartment, trying to find his lightsaber. Or Comm, or any connection to the outside world. There was none. The doors were locked, sealed from the outside, of course, so it was still a prison, albeit the most gilded one in the galaxy. Lacking any other course of action, Obi-Wan Kenobi found himself a choice spot on the parlor floor, sat down, and started meditating.

He felt it approach hours later, and heard the snap-hiss as the doors to his apartment sprang open. A small, browned haired woman walked quietly in, intruding on a space he had already, unconsciously, began to consider his own. A woman, who despite her small stature, Obi-Wan understood to have just overthrown the entire entrenched power structure of the known galaxy. Who had probably plotted the demise of the Republic and the Jedi for decades. And who had won, and who would now subject the galaxy to her will. And Obi-Wan understood that he had blown his chance to stop her, that there was nothing more he could do now to rip this ill-gotten power away from her.

"Your highness," he addressed mockingly, not bothering to leave his meditation for her sake.

"It is the proper term," the Sith master agreed. "Tomorrow will see Anakin and I properly coronated. It is proper you are awake to witness it."

"How long was I out," Obi-Wan asked, eyes still closed, though he knew his meditation was finished for the day.

"Several weeks," Padmé said. The answer shocked him, yet he was not surprised. The Force whispered to him the passage of time, as did the evidence of the repairs to the Temple walls from the deadly siege when he had last been awake.

"Do you plan to kill me after your coronation," he asked stoically, determined not to let the Sith sense any fear or trepidation from him. "After you parade me as an exhibition of your triumph?"

"Don't be so hopelessly paranoid," the Sith scoffed at him. "The coronation is very important. I cannot afford to let you disrupt the ceremony. After its conclusion, you will be free to go."

"Will I," he asked, still distrusting Amidala's every word. "Free to rejoin the Jedi? Free to speak out against you and Anakin? To raise my sword against you?"

"No." Padmé laughed, and this time it was her tone that was mocking. "Your own Council will forbid it."

This was news, enough to prompt Obi-Wan to finally rise and face his enemy. "What do you mean? What have you done to the Jedi?"

"I made peace with your Order," Padmé said, not able to betray the satisfaction in her voice. "According to the  _Concord of Dagobah,_  signed by both Master Yoda and myself, the Jedi will continue to function and carry on their business, under the bylaws of the Empire, of course."

Obi-Wan scoffed contemptuously. "The Jedi serving the Sith. Do you intend to treat us as slaves? As puppets? Or do you plan to corrupt us all to the Dark Side as well, until you've infected and destroyed our Order from within one by one?"

"Hardly. Do you really think so little of me, Obi-Wan? After all we've been through?" Padmé handed him a datapad, and Obi-Wan scrolled through the lengthy text that his own Council had apparently agreed to with a Sith.

"Use of the Dark Side is prohibited by law," Padmé said as Obi-Wan perused the datapad, "same as before. Except when allowed by Imperial decree. And the Jedi are responsible for patrolling their own, ensuring that none within the Order becomes a threat to the peace."

"I see," Obi-Wan said, understanding. "The Jedi Order will police our own so that none of us can threaten the Sith." His eyes caught a passage as he skimmed through the words, something about relaxing the Order's rules regarding attachments, and allowing crechelings to contact their birth parents.

"For the greater good," Padmé said, not disagreeing with him. "It serves both Orders, and the galaxy as a whole. Why argue against a good thing, something that works?"

"But you're evil," Obi-Wan protested fiercely. "And you admit it inherently, that the Dark Side is evil, else why not evangelize its use to every Force sensitive in the galaxy?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," Padmé scolded, more as a disappointed mother than a vengeful Sith, "to think I expected better of you, than to revert to such...conventional platitudes...to seek solace in outdated definitions." She snatched the datapad away from Obi-Wan, as if he did not deserve the wisdom it contained. "The Dark Side is like any ability. The potential can do great good, or great harm. Many Siths have chosen the latter route in the past. Anakin and I are different. We have learned to adapt, to control it, to use it to improve the galaxy. And we will."

She spoke the last three words almost as a threat, and Obi-Wan shuddered at the sheer megalomania of someone he once respected. Yet the way the words were spoken...there was something different about Amidala today. She had won, she had defeated the Jedi...she should be celebrating...gloating...which she was doing in word. But the way she spoke, it sounded more as if she was in mourning.

"What makes you so special? That only you and Anakin and no one else are immune to the poisons of the Dark Side?"

"The Jedi have always believed Anakin to be special, have they not? The Chosen One? Destined to bring balance to the Force?"

"Until he was perverted by the Sith," Obi-Wan said resentfully, still unable to let go of the boy's wasted potential.

"Ani and I will rule justly," Padmé said plainly, as if it were fact rather than opinion. "We will teach our children and their children to rule justly, with balance, to seek both the light and the dark for guidance. But I cannot speak for the fate of all our progeny to come," the Sith master admitted to Obi-Wan's surprise. "One day, one of our bloodline will find themselves drunk by the Dark Side, driven towards its excesses. You're right. It's in the Dark Side's very nature."

"You're willing to let that happen," Obi-Wan asked. "Assuming you and Anakin won't be the ones to fall so deep, a generous assumption I'll grant for the sake of debate, you'll still doom the galaxy to suffering and pain one day in the future just for the sake of your power today? Let one of your successors undo all the supposed good you'll bring about in your glorious reign?"

Padmé shook her head impatiently, seemingly perturbed that Obi-Wan still did not fully understand the implications of her vision. "When the Sith oversteps their bounds, there will be a healthy and thriving Jedi Order to oppose them."

Obi-Wan cocked his head, looking at the Sith in complete disbelief.

"For millennia, the Jedi Order alone has presumed dictated the will of the Force," Padmé explained. "Now, authority lies in the hand of the Sith. It's our turn now, but should any of us be tempted to stray, to revert to the ways of old, we will do so with the knowledge that we stand outnumbered, that we will be opposed by the full force and strength of the Jedi Order. That is balance in the Force, is it not?"

"Easier concepts to claim rather than put into practice," Obi-Wan finally relented, finding no way to argue against the Sith.

"I guess we have no choice but to let the future prove our cases," Padmé said, ready to conclude their conversation.

"Why let me live," Obi-Wan asked as the Sith started her leave. "If you were truly in the right, then I was the one who wronged you. Why spare my life, when you have slaughtered those less innocent than me? Such as Queen Jamillia."

"Queen Jamillia died from an unfortunate heart condition," Padmé maintained firmly, lips thin and refusing to acknowledge the truth they both knew. The lie addressed, she spoke with less defensiveness. "They say living well is the best revenge. In my case, perhaps that is my revenge for you. For you to live in this new world. To see how well it thrives under the rule of the Sith. To understand incrementally with each passing day how misguided your actions were. And to live with their consequences. To live upon your conscience the blood of the Jedi your coup spilled. That of Master Windu. Barriss Offee. And all those who passed defending the Temple from the Droid army you unwittingly unleashed."

While he would not believe her right, Obi-Wan could admit to himself that, regardless of right or wrong, those who died on the siege on Coruscant had died for naught, in lieu of the failure of his coup and the triumph of the Sith. "Perhaps you were not entirely in the wrong. But neither was I."

Padmé nodded, acknowledging the truth in his words for the first time in their conversation. "You lost, Obi-Wan. You failed. There is peace now between Jedi and Sith for the first time in thousands of generations. Yes, we hold ultimate power solely within our grasp, and our family and our kind will reign over the galaxy for years to come. Yet the world continues on. The galaxy still hums. Sentients live and die, children celebrate life-days, and old men and women cry at funerals. The Temple stands, and the Jedi continue their teachings, taking Padawans, granting Knighthoods, working on behalf of sentients, only with better direction now. Accept those facts, Obi-Wan, and you may find life easier to cope with."

She turned to go again, and Obi-Wan sensed that her departure was final. He was about to say something, but of course the incumbent Empress had to snatch the final words.

"You have guests. We should not leave them waiting much longer."

To his surprise, Padmé's exit coincided neatly with the entrance of Quinlan Vos and the Duchess of Mandalore. Satine. The woman to whom he had once promised his heart. The woman he would have left the Jedi Order for. And she was accompanied by his friend, perhaps the closest friend he had in his life. Two people who, he could not ignore, had been complicit in the rise of the Sith in one small way or another.

"Obi-Wan," Quinlan started, speaking first amidst the awkward reunion. "It's good to see you alive. I feared the worst."

"Quinlan," Obi-Wan nodded, holding back the urge to hug his friend. To hug both friends. Instead, he crumpled onto a nearby chaise, sighing at the lengths to which the Sith were willing to go to torture him, using the people he cared the most about in his life. The closest he had to attachments. "Is it to Skywalker and Amidala you hold your allegiance to now?"

"Alas, no," Quinlan said, taking a seat beside him, Satine reclining on a chair across from them. "I kept your secret, Obi-Wan, until you carried things out. In doing so, I lost Skywalker's trust. I'm still a Jedi. Still is Dooku, for the matter, and all the others who joined the Alliance...with the reunification...I think the Council would like to pretend none of it happened."

"That seems to be a theme these days, doesn't it," Obi-Wan muttered, "close our eyes and pretend everything is normal, that we aren't all living under the dominion of the Sith. I'd say I'd be surprised that Anakin didn't execute you outright, but seems the Sith are in a merciful mood these days. One can be thankful for the little things, I suppose."

"I tried to do right by both sides," Quinlan said. "I think Skywalker understood that. I'm not saying they're saints, but you  _should_  give them more credit."

"Amidala has given me a lot to think about," Obi-Wan admitted. He looked at Quinlan, then Satine, who had remained silent throughout their reunion. "Why are you here? Both of you?"

"Because we care about you, Obi-Wan," Satine said with an intensity that surprised Obi-Wan. "The Empress told me you were severely hurt during the siege. We wanted to make sure you were alright."

Obi-Wan could tell that Satine's eyes rarely left his prosthetic, that she wanted to reach out, and touch it, and comfort him, but held back for his sake. "Empress," he could not help but ask. "Since when does Mandalore's pacifism compatible with a galactic empire?"

Satine shrugged, a reaction he seemed to be eliciting quite often this day. "It is what it is. The Empire and its army does not intrude on Mandalorian space. We are free to carry on independently with our own affairs, same as it was with the Alliance. And the taxation policies are more than fair."

"You both just accept the Sith," Obi-Wan asked, though his tone was less challenging, more genuinely inquisitive, as somehow the few hours he had since regaining consciousness were close to obliterating his resistance.

"Like I said," Quinlan said, "they're no paragons of virtue."

"Those daily tortures of Gunray and his supporters they broadcast on the holonets is quite distasteful," Satine admitted.

"...but the galaxy does seem better off. Even Master Yoda agrees, change for the Jedi was due, that we had become stale and arrogant in our ways. And if the Jedi have calcified in our ways, become stale in our traditions, it doesn't seem inconceivable that the Republic had its own serious flaws as well."

"You'll find no argument from me there," Satine added quickly.

"What now then," Obi-Wan asked, reclining in his corner of the couch and staring at the sterile white ceilings of the room. "Do we just carry on as Jedi and pretend there's nothing different between a Sith Empress and a Supreme Chancellor? Conduct our missions on their behalf, continue to augment and expand their power?"

Quinlan looked sympathetically at his old friend. "It's a lot to take in at once, I know. And you might think that it's easy for me, but it's not. I don't think I can go back to the Temple right now."

"What will you do?"

Quinlan shook his head, his eyes far off in the distance. "I need a sabbatical, I think. Go somewhere to the Outer Rim, or Wild Space. Take some time to meditate. On my own, as myself...not as a Jedi. You know, I've not had a moment to myself since I was a youngling? These missions just keep taking more and more out of you...but Master Yoda understands that now, finally. The galaxy's at peace, and the pace of the Temple has slowed to a degree that...I do not find disagreeable."

"We move on," Satine said, reaching out and placing a gentle hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, not far from where his flesh met his prosthetic arm. "We live. We try to be happy. Is that so difficult an endeavor?"

Staring back at her solemn gray-blue eyes, eyes that he did not realize until now still haunted him, Obi-Wan found himself unable to refute her.

* * *

"I appreciate the statue," Shmi said uneasily, "but it's a little too...unrealistic? There's not even a wrinkle on my face."

"You're so much more beautiful than that statue, love," Cliegg said, squeezing his wife's shoulders affectionately.

The two newly royal families gathered in a small garden on the vast estate, confiscated from the manors of several of Coruscant's most prominent politicians and guild leaders, that would soon serve as the official Imperial Palace. Construction continued as each property was combined, barriers between them knocked down, and each structure and space designed to fit the Siths' exact specifications. Amongst the changes were statues brought in to adorn the grounds, most of them likenesses of the new Emperor and Empress's families, friends, and closest supporters. Two Jedi were represented as well, one of Qui-Gon Jinn, whom both Anakin and Padmé agreed deserved to be honored, and another of Sifo-Dyas, whose sacrifice was even more immediate and crucial to getting them where they stood today. Conspicuously missing were any sculptures of the royal couple themselves, as Padmé figured that they would be amply honored by those who came after them.

"I'm a bit confused," Ruwee muttered in a corner, more to himself than anything else. "Am I supposed to be a Prince now or something?"

"You can have whatever title you'd like, dad," Padmé said, sensing that her father was still more than uneasy about their new stature. Ruwee raised her to love democracy, and with the rather abrupt change, in his mind to her political philosophies, the best Padmé could expect from him was acceptance of what she had done, without any gleeful cheering.

Shmi seemed uneasy as well, not regarding anything political, but the mother of the new Emperor to be was more concerned about whether or not Anakin, still barely twenty years of age, was ready to rule the galaxy. Anakin had acknowledged that, despite several family talks they had since the revelation, when both families interrogated them at length, both Shmi and Ruwee were still a bit miffed that they had kept the secret of the Sith from them. And the brunt of their unhappiness fell inevitably on Padmé, seeing that whatever her intentions, whether they were truly altruistic, or completely selfish and power-hungry, or somewhere in between, she had no doubt taken advantage of the boy when she lured him to the Sith Order. And she was the one responsible for anything and everything they had done since then.

Padmé looked around their combined families. Aside from her father and Ani's mother, the rest of those gathered seemed more comfortable in their surroundings. Sola had always known, of course, and took in stride something she always half expected to happen. Darred, along with their two daughters as well as Anakin's step-family, seemed completely in awe of their new statuses. As for Jobal, a woman who never cared much for politics, her mother just beamed with happiness and pride towards her daughter's success, as well as relief in the fact of her powers in the Force and in politics, since it meant that she no longer had to be constantly worried for her headstrong second-born daughter's life and limbs.

"Once the initial phase of construction is complete, all of you will be welcome to stay at the palace at any time, of course. My handmaidens are superb, but the twins will no doubt appreciate the sense of family around them."

"I appreciate the gesture Padmé," Jobal said warmly, though it was clear she was less than enthusiastic about the idea, "but this place is so big. We lost mom for several hours yesterday and...come to think of it," the older woman looked around the gardens nervously, then back at her husband, "Ruwee, when's the last time we saw Ryoo?"

"Grandmama will be fine," Padmé said, laughing. Reaching out her senses, she could feel her mother's mother not too far away, by a reflecting pool some of the construction workers were still building. "I think she likes this place more than anyone else. Remember when we found her last night? She was practically directing the builders, specifying the dimensions of the fountains and the columns she wanted to see."

"Clearly your indifference towards democracy comes from your mother's side of the family," Ruwee grumbled quietly. He smiled, to show his younger daughter that he was joking, but everyone knew the real sentiments beneath the joke.

"Hush Ruwee," Jobal scolded. "Can't you just be happy for our daughter for once?"

"She killed Jabba the Hutt," Beru added from nearby, trying to be helpful. "Everyone on Tatooine practically worships her and Ani once that news came out."

"My wife, the Hutt-slayer," Anakin beamed proudly. It may mean little to the rest of the galaxy at large, but those two words were imbued with an almost sacred quality on worlds like Tatooine. He rubbed his wife's stomach, the twins still yet to show beyond her dark green dress, but Anakin could feel the small bump underneath the fabric. "I bet you my daughter will carry on that tradition."

"I'm proud of you, Padmé," Ruwee finally conceded, embracing his daughter in a fatherly hug, "I really am. I knew you were going to be a handful the moment you were born. Nothing about your life I could have come close to predicting, but...I love you. I'll always love you, Sith and Empress and all."

"Thanks dad," Padmé said, letting herself go in her father's firm embrace, letting her eyes well and her tears fall. "I love you too. Just try not to start any rebellions against me, okay?"

Ruwee looked around mirthfully, first at his wife, then at Sola, then at his two granddaughters, both of whom stared at their aunt in sheer adoration and worship. "Promise. Even if I tried, I'd be quickly facing a rebellion of my own in my own family."

"Ani," Shmi said carefully, trying to parse her words so as not to offend, "be wary of the politicians, okay? They will always want from you, and not all of them will be as...caring of you...as Padmé."

"I've got it ma," Anakin replied, the new Emperor of the galaxy still bashful at the words of his mother. "I know what I'm doing. I've already helped draft several articles of the new Imperial constitution, after all."

"The clauses about slavery," Owen asked.

Anakin shook his head vigorously. "I'd be too biased in that subject matter. Padmé assigned me instead the sections on legal precedents, inter-planetary taxation, hierarchies between galactic and planetary sovereignties, contract law, and the intersections between property rights and eminent domain," he said proudly.

"Dearest Shiraya," Sola grimaced, placing her head in one hand, "we're so much more kriffed than I could ever hope to imagine." She liberally finished her glass of an expensive  _Amidala's Vintage Red_  in one fell swoop, and wondered if there was anything stronger available. Like Corellian Brandy.

* * *

They were alone. They had not had much time to themselves since the Battle of the Temple, though Padmé had made time for just the two of them, a blissful day once Anakin came out of the bacta tank that they spent to themselves, as if it was their honeymoon again. Like their honeymoon, that blissful week between Padmé's resignation as Queen and appointment as Senator where neither of them truly had no responsibilities or cares in the world, they did not do much talking. But this time around, the Empress-to-be did not have a week to spare, jetting off to Dagobah the next morning for negotiations with the Jedi while Anakin continued to rehab his new prosthetic. Then politics on Coruscant consumed her, as she and her closest supporters, Kara Wipper'lom, Riyo Chuchi, Onaconda Farr, and Mina Bonteri, a new inner council in the making for the next galactic generation, hammered out a new Constitution for the nascent Empire they were about to create, all the while monitoring (and manipulating) the galactic wide elections for the new Imperial Senate. Now, as both of them stood in their new Imperial offices inside the old Senate building, looking out, awaiting the cue for their official coronation, it wasn't that they had all the time in the world, but the brief respite was an opportunity for them to catch up and calm their nerves before the most monumental day of their young lives.

"Do you worry about Bail or Mon," Anakin asked, playing with his wife's fingers absentmindedly as he clasped her hand in his one flesh hand. "They could start a rebellion, move against us."

"They'll try eventually, I'm sure," Padmé answered. "They are weak now. Building up the forces of resistance will take years, decades even. Rule well, and we will give them little to work with."

"That's all you. Me and Rex will have a good time playing with the Hutts and the Guilds though."

"You're a better politician than you think, Ani." Padmé smiled at him, this young man with so intelligence, so much strength, so much loyalty...a young man she had shaped herself, and yet grew into himself without her help. Despite her help, even. "Yours will be the voice us trained politicians needs to hear every day, to shake us out of our inertia."

"Are you nervous," Anakin asked, stroking his wife's cheeks as she stared in a trance out at the gathering crowd in the plaza below, his question reflecting his own anxieties. A crowd there for them. "This is the culmination of everything you've dreamed, everything you've planned."

"It's here," Padmé whispered, more to herself than to Anakin. Where she had been so confident in him, he felt a sense of trepidation as she considered her own future. "I...I'm not actually sure if I'm ready for this."

She was fearful, Anakin realized. Her body was in control, but Padmé's mind, her soul, shivered uncontrollably, as if she were freezing to death on Hoth. Sensing that Anakin was aware of her insecurities, she ran her fingers gently up and down the spine of his prosthetic, a habit she had formed in the last few weeks as she worked to help her husband come to terms with the arm he had lost. One he lost for her sake.

"You're different these days," Anakin finally said, giving voice to that nagging thought which had been gnawing on the edges of his mind ever since he came out of stasis. "You seem...quieter. Withdrawn. Like you're holding back...like when I speak to you, I'm speaking to only half the woman I married."

Padmé turned to look at her, and as their eyes met, he saw sheer terror in her eyes. As if the growing crowd outside was congregating to tear them limb from limb, rather than celebrate and cheer them ascension.

"I lost control, Ani," Padmé admitted in a voice that was barely audible. "I let myself go during the war. I did something I swore I would never do, I lost my grasp of the Dark Side. My mistakes...they almost cost us everything we worked for. I can't let that happen again, Ani. Not now, when the stakes are so high every single day."

Suddenly, Padmé felt like a child to him, as if she was expecting to scold her, punish her, for her admission, and Anakin realized that he may have gotten a glimpse of what it had been like for her under Sidious, a past that she had shielded from him as much as possible.

"I know how you feel," Anakin confessed, surprising her. "You remember how I felt after those visions? Of choking you. Being me...but not me. Some other twisted version of it..."

"I do," Padmé said, taking his flesh hand in hers, their skin to skin contact reflecting the vulnerability they both felt...vulnerabilities they spent day and night hiding from the galaxy at large. "You were afraid to embrace your power. Your true potential."

"I could never get past it," Anakin said. "Even when you encouraged me, told me not to worry...I held back too. Because I was afraid of what would happen if I didn't...that I would have become that uncontrollable beast who could attack my own wife...my soulmate, my life. Then you were betrayed, and I had no choice. I had to give everything I had to save you."

"You saw our children in your meditations," Padmé said, rubbing her belly unconsciously. "I never asked you what they were like. I was...afraid...afraid of many things."

Anakin nodded his head in understanding, his deep blue eyes gleaming with eagerness to share with Padmé the miracles he witnessed in his meditations. "Leia. She has your hair, your eyes...but she has both our fire. She will be a born leader. She'll never back down. Luke. He has my hair, my eyes...but your patience. Your forbearance. He will inspire hope and loyalty by his example. By his inborn nobility, his bearing. He will be unshakable, able to grasp and deal with hardship better than either one of us. And they are both so, so, strong...they persevere through the worst the Force throws at them."  _What he threw at them_ , Anakin could still not bear to say.

"You saw them...you saw them grown?" There was disappointment in Padmé's voice, in that the Force had unfairly denied her what it had given to Anakin.

Anakin nodding again, but there was a sadness to his gesture, as if he meant to convey that it was not a blessing.

"I don't think the vision would have been possible before...before they were actually conceived here. But the Force, through our children," he pressed her stomach again, "showed me the way. Only through their existence could I see past what I feared the most. I don't know the exact circumstances of the vision. But you died. Probably when I...when I attacked you. And the Force didn't show me...it spared me the details, but I think...I lost control too. I was a slave to Sidious...a slave to the Darkness, the  _deep_  Darkness, for a lifetime. My regret, my grief...it consumed me, along with my anger, and hatred. Somehow, our children lived, and we all lived in ignorance of each other. I did...terrible things to them. Before I found out who they were. But afterwards too. Because I was so, so lost. But...in the end...they believed in me. Luke believed in me. He freed me. I died. I did not say the words, but it was written in the Force...I renounced the Dark Side, the Sith...and I died redeemed."

"Do you think that's what we should do? Is our path to leave the Dark? Redeem ourselves to the light? By Shiraya, give up and join the Jedi?" Padmé's voice was still lost, as if she were the student rather than the teacher, and her shielding, her entire being, felt so uncertain, that Anakin knew that she could have renounced the entire Dark Side and the Sith, right then and there, were he to give her the go ahead. But he shook his head.

"No. That was a different world. A different Sith."

"How did it help you then?"

"What do we believe in, Padmé? What does the Sith order believe in?"

The Senate building was deserted save for them. When neither spoke, the silence was deafening, in contrast with what must have been quite the boisterous spectacle outside their walls.

It took her some time to answer his question. "I would have said doing right, no matter what stands in our way. Power, always power, because it allows us to do the most good. Because only we understand the good that must be done...and what must be done to achieve it."

"All of that is true." His eyes were so blue, so intense, and in that moment, not even the most seasoned Jedi could have been able to guess that he was a Sith. "You spoke to me more than a decade ago...on the day I was to start as a Jedi, that you and I, we could reshape the Sith Order. Make it whatever we want it to be." She felt his grip tighten around her hand. "It's us, Padmé. We're family. What defines us is our love for family, for those we care about, that we will fight for them until our dying breaths. Because that is who we are, that is what our Sith order is. However deep we fall, however dark we become, family will always bring us back, because it defines us. Is us. I untethered myself from my chains to free you, Padmé. It was good that I had help, that others like Rex and Ahsoka made my choices less harsh than what they could have been. But I have no doubt that even had I had to commit the worst, I would have come back to you in the end. Because it's in my blood, because that is what the Force wills. I know it's not easy, to keep the Dark at bay...to harness it rather than to fall into it. But that's why we have each other, why we're here for each other. And soon, we will have so many more reasons to keep hold of ourselves."

"I don't deserve you," Padmé said after a long contemplation. "I was just a stupid girl, a throwaway Sith, a backup plan for Sidious..."

Placing both his hands on her shoulders, Anakin shushed her. "And I was a slave, and destined to remain one, whether to Watto, or a Hutt, or the Jedi, or Sidious. But the Force gave us each other. Apart, we would have been lost. But together, we've changed everything, and it's not an accident."

Padmé laughed, breaking the tension. "If only the Jedi could see us now...on the edge of ruling the galaxy, yet quivering in fear."

"It makes us human," Anakin answered calmly, "that we understand and fear our responsibilities. Our destinies." Bending down, touching his forehead to Padmé's, he sent her images, snapshots of what he retained from his visions. A small, browned haired girl with hard, yet compassionate eyes, giving a speech before the Senate. A young blond haired boy, the picture of tranquility and peace, training with his father's lightsaber. And the galaxy revolving around them both.

A buzzer sounded, and they withdrew from each other, knowing that their time was up. That their time had come.

"Come," Anakin beckoned. "Let us embrace our destinies."

The Sith couple strode silently through the lobby, hand in hand, and though they were silent, their minds and hearts were melded as one as they savored each other's loving, needful presences. Past the ballroom, where the evening's gala was to take place. Where the shivering bodies of Nute Gunray, Mas Amedda, and many other Senators were already in place, bound by ropes, hund and suspended upside down in preparation for the night's entertainment, which would involve ample amounts of Sith lightning. Padmé made a note to remind Dormé to re-up Gunray's dosage of stimulants, to ensure that he did not fall in to yet another fear coma, so that he would be very highly attuned to all his senses during the torture. Just for fun, she shot a burst of lightning at him, and giggled like a schoolgirl as he screamed and blubbered in pain and fear, an appetizer for what was to come.

"You know what I love about you," Anakin asked as they meandered through the hallways leading past the empty Senate chambers.

"Everything," Padmé asked, staring lovingly into her husband's eyes.

"That too. But the fact that you're the only one who doesn't refer to me as 'the boy', or 'young Skywalker'. Like all those blasted Jedi, the way I overhear them speaking of me when they think I'm not present."

"Hmmm," Padmé murmured, not sure whether to agree or disagree. "Yeah..those words make me feel dirty."

"Well, your highness," Anakin raised an eyebrow, "we were...quite dirty for many years." Seeing his wife's reaction of faux outrage, he smirked at her, and she made a predatory biting motion at him.

"I'll say this,  _boy_. I can't wait for tonight, when we fuck for the first time officially as Empress and Emperor."

"Just try not to hurt me too much."

"To be determined," Padmé said with a sly smile as they emerged out onto the veranda, where the sight of their families greeted them. Nestled between an already protective Shmi and an already doting Jobal was the young Togrutan girl, who seemed a bit uneasy by all the newfound attention, so unlike what she was used to in the Jedi Temple. Whose eyes perked up when she saw her new Sith friends, as if to say,  _finally, you've come to save me_.

Joining their loved ones in laughter, the two Sith masters raised their hands, stilled joined, in the air, the fanfare of the cheering crowd the anthem to all that they had achieved together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. That's it. I originally wrote this as a fleeting idea, planning nothing more than an odd one-shot with intriguing possibilities, but this world kept drawing me back. I never expected this series expand, over 100K words, and carry it through through its logical conclusion, but you can't control the muse sometimes, I guess. Now the Sith's done taken over the galaxy, and somehow without mass genocide. Happy ending, no?
> 
> As to the future of this series, were inspiration to strike, I'll try my best to put them into words (and there are thoughts and ideas, but I'd rather them more formulated and solid before committing to them). If not, I'm happy to leave it where it is now. For now, I sincerely thank everyone who's read, and reviewed this somewhat absurd series, and though it may sound cliche, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I have writing it.


End file.
